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(|0tiJ9r^j9ati0naI ^ttarl^rlg. 



VOLUME I. 




CangTEfiational Hifatais assatfatio 



Urn tit can Congitsattanal IQnion, 



Rkv^.. JOSEPH S. CLARK, D.D., HENRY M. DEXTER, ALONZO H. QUINT, 
AND ISAAC P. LANGWORTHY. 



BOSTON : 

UOSGREGATIONAL BUILDING, CHAUNCY STREET. 

NEW YORK ; 

JtOOMS OF AMERICAN CONOREOATIONAL UNION, 

S48 BROADWAY. 

1869. 



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PEE88 OP EDWJLED L. BALCif, 
No. M School Street. Ikwtou. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



American Congregational Union : 

Hiitorical sketch of,.... •....••.59 

Monthly meetings of, 231,420 

Proceedings and Annual Report of,... .321 

American Home Missionary Society, and 
the New School General Assembly,... .359 

Arehitecture and Christian Principle,.... 373 

Biographical Notes: (See Obituaries, also.) 

Adams, 270 

Allen, 47, 266 

Austin, .44 

Ballantine, 43 

Barker, 41 

Barnard, ..41 

Barton, 47 

Ball, 265 

Braman, 44 

Briggs, 44 

Chamberlain, 268 

Cheever, 235 

Cutler, 47 

Dana, i 42 

Daris, 52 

Dorrance, 44 

Dutch 47 

Bmerson, 46 

Fitch, 54 

Oo£fc 47 

Gould 47 

Hale, 39,265 

Hall, 268 

Hayes, 44 

Holt, 39 

Huntingdon, 45 

Hutchinson, 269 

Hyde, 43,268 

Judaon, 43, 567 

Keep, 47 

Lee, 39 

Litchfield, 41 

Lyman, 40 

Martin, 268 

Maverick, 148 

Mead, 47 

Messinger, 267 

Moore, 45 



Peabody, 41,268 

Perley, ••.47 

Pond, 267 

Pope, 45 

Reynolds, 41 

Tompkins, ...41 

Snell, 47 

Spalding, .44 

Spring, 44 

Stearns, 45 

Stone, ? 269 

Sumner, 42 

Turner, 46 

Ward, 41 

Warham, 143 

Wells, 43 

West, 41 

White, 46 

Whitney, 42 

Willard, 40 

Wood, 270 

Woodbridge, 46 

Worcester, .45 

Biographical Sketches : 

Mather, Cotton, (with portrait,) 233 

Phillips. William, (with portrait,) 13a 

Prince, Thomas, (with portrait,) 1 

Richmond, Gilbert 397 

Sawyer, John, 62 

Wicklitfe, John 278 

Woods, Leonard, (with portrait,) 105 

Books Noticed : 

Adams' Great Concern, .409 

Agnes, or the Little Key, 217 

Alford's Greek Testament, 310 

Autocrat of the Breakfast Tabic, 410 

Atonement, Edwards', &c., 309 

Bibliotheca Sacra, 311 

Catharine, 217 

Clark's ( J. S.) Congregational Churches 

of Massachusetts, 409 

Clark's (G. F.) History of Norton. ....410 
Cleavcland's Compendium of American 

Literature, 31 1 

Congregational Hymn and Tune Book,. 218 
Eloquence a Virtue, •• 310 



^. 



IV 



Contents. 



Havcn*s Mental Thilosophy, 215 

" Moral Philosophy, 408 

Hovcy's Life of Backus, 21G 

" State of the Impenitent Dead,. 217 

Lcc*is Eschatology, • 311 

Mansel's Limits of Religious Thought,. 809 

Masson's British Novelists, 410 

" Life of Milton, 216 

Minutes of General Associations,... 411-12 

Old South Prayer Meeting, 218 

Puritan Hymn and Tunc Book, 310 

Sabbath Hymn Book, 89 

Sawyer's New Testament, 94 

Seini-Centennial Celebration of Andover 

Theological Seminary, 311 

Stuart*8 llomans, 217 

Taylor's Revealed Theology, 409 

Thompson's Memoir of David T. Stod- 
dard, 95 

Thornton's Anglo American Coloniza- 
tion 310 

Uhden's New England Theocracy, 95 

Catechising, •• 393 

Church extension, early methods of....... 53 

Church plans, (sec Meeting-houses,) 186, 

300,369 
Churches and Ministers in Windham 

Co., Ct., 264, 350 

Churches formed, lists of, . . 100, |29, 318, 419 

Churches, their Numbering 135 

Congregational Library Association : 

Historical Sketch of, 70 

Proceedings and Annual Report of,.. • .327 

Quarterly meetings of, 104, 232, 430 

Congregational State Associations 228 

Congregational Union of England and 

Wales, publications of, 17S 

Congregationalism in Western New York, 151 
Congregationalism, its adaptation for the 

^. work nf Home Missions, 311 

Congregationalism, its Features and Su- 
periorities, 17 

Deacon, the of&ce of, 66 

Editorial Notes 104, 232, 320, 420 

Indians, Did the Pilgrims wrong the, ....129 

Index, 421 

Massachusetts General Association, his- 
torical sketch of, • ...38 

Mather, Cotton, sketch of the life of, 233 

Meeting Houses, considered Historically 

and Suggestively, 186 

Ministers, old Way of Supporting, 1«)8 

'* ordained or installed, lists of, . .100, 

230, 318,419 

•« married, lists of,. .103, 231, 319. 419 

*' dismissed, lists of, 100, 230, 318, 419 

deceased, lists of,. .103. 231, 320, 419 

Necrology, Congregational,.. 96, 218, 312,412 

Norton's Orthodox Evangelist, 73 



Obituaries : 

Ball, Rev. Charles B., 225 

Bates, Rev. William, 418 

Bloomer, Rev. Joseph, 96 

Braman, Rev. Isaac...... 223 

Brown, Rev. Joshua R., 90 

Chapman, Rev. Nathaniel, .96 

Demond, AlpheuB, 4W 

Falrchild,Rcv. JoyH., 314 

Farwell, Rev. John E., 311 

Field, Mrs. C. La G 227 

FUgg, Rev. William D., 316 

Goodale, Dea. David, 230 

Hall, Rev. Thomas 313 

Hubbard, Rev. Austin O., 412 

Kitchel, Mrs. Ann S., 98 

Mann, Rev. Cyrus, 226 

Newell, Rev. Gad 314 

Richards, Rev. John, D.D., 316 

Richmond, Gilbert, (see 397,) 315 

Robbins, Dea. Josiah, 225 

Seagrave, Mrs. Martha E., 21S 

Stearns, Madame Abigail, 221 

Taylor, Rev. Timothy A., 96 

Tripp, Dea. Samuel, 226 

Tufts, Dea. Jamca, il8 

Webster, Dea. Moses, 210 

Wells, Rev. Nathaniel, 224 

White, Rev. Henrj', 312 

White, Rev. Luther R., 98 

White, Mrs. Pamelia G., W., 99 

Wolcott. Dea. Elihu, 413 

Worcester, Rev. Samuel A., ••41o 

Pastor and People, their Civil and Eccle- 
siastical Connection, 16a 

Phillips, William, Sketch of the Life of,.. 332 

Prince, Thomas, Sketch of the Life of, 1 

Richmond, Gilbert, Sketch of the Life of, 397 

Sabbath, The Puritan, 271 

Sawyer, John. Sketch of the Life of, 62 

Seminaries,! Congregational Theological 

in the United States 181 

<* Cong. Theological, in England, 389 
«< Presbyterian, in the U. States, 185 
Statistics : 

American Ecclesiastical, 124. 296, 385 

Congregational, for 1858, 77 

«• " 1859, (in part,). ...411 

<* of Massachusetts, 320 

M issionary, • . 372 

Mortuary, of graduates of Andover 

Theological Seminary, 357 

Statistics, advice upon, 320 

*' what and how to be collected, 135 

Ventilation, 300,369 

WickliflFe, John, his Life and Opinions,. . .278 

Windham Co., Ct., Churches in, 264, 360 

Woods, Leonard, Sketch of the Life of,. .105 
{See Index, p, 421.; 



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iiuuiuBcripi^ eiiaer puDUsnea in Mew Kng- is piously recorded underneath. His pj 

land, or perUdning to its History and Fub- sion for collecting books evidently showt 

lie Affain, to whieh collection I have given itself in childhood ; and it is nowise h 

the name of the New England Library'." probable that he already owned a respe 

He might in truth intimate that much table library, as to numbers, when he h 

cf lua lifetime had been devoted to these came a Freshman at Cambridge. It 

1 



THE 



(l{0nur^jgati0nd ^mvttvli^. 



Vol. I.— JANUARY, 1859.— No. L 



THOMAS PRINCE. 

▲ BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, BT RET. J. X. WLSVUfQ, B08T0K. 

It has been urged that this Periodical, labors — into which an Association of Chriv- 
considering the character and objects con- tian scholars has at length entered — for his 
templated for it, should have the name undertaking was carried through a period 
and portrait of the Rev. Thomas Prince, of more than fifty-five years. According 
to introduce it to the notice of the public, to his own statement, he began the col- 
The Constitution of the Congregational lection ** upon his entering Harvard 
Library Association declares, that its ob- College, July 6, 1703;" and his death 
ject " shall be to found and perpetuate a occurred October 22, 1758. It is evident, 
Library of Books, Pamphlets and Manu- indeed, that he had done something toward 
scripts, and a collection of Portraits, and this favorite purpose of his life before en- 
whatever else shall serve to illustrate Pu- tering College. Several volumes which 
ritan history." Strikingly coincident with escaped British vandalism, and which 
this was the object of the life of Mr. have survived the ravages of time, bear 
Prince — so far as his life may be said to testimony to this. A book now lying near 
have had an object, beyond a faithful at^ us, the gift of a dear friend, appears to 
tention to the duties of the pastoral oflice. have come into his possession before he 
In his Will, which he made less than a was ten years old. On the blank pages 
month before his death, after having oth- of the treasure, in rough school-boy hand, 
erwiso disposed of " all my Books that are and with striking pen-and-ink illustrations, 
in Latin, Greek, and in the Oriental we are required to take notice that this is 
Languages," he says, " I have been many " Thomas Prince His Book." The date 
years collecting a number of Books, also is carefully given, in the same graphic 
Pamphlets, Maps, Papers in Print, and style, and the name of the beloved donor 
Manuscript, either published in New £ng- is piously recorded underneath. His pas- 
land, or pertaining to its History and Pub- sion for collecting books evidently showed 
lie Affairs, to which collcf^tion I have given itself in childhood ; and it is nowise im- 
the name of the New England^ Library." probable that he already owned a respec- 

He might in truth intimate that much table library, as to numbers, when he be- 

of his lifetime had been devoted to these came a Freshman at Cambridge. It is 
1 



Thomas Prince. 



[Jan. 



worthy of notice that he dates the founda- 
tion of his Library from the verj day on 
which he entered College. His contem- 
plated collection of books and papers was 
the object uppermost in his thoughts, as 
he left hb boyhood's home for the Uni- 
versity. He went to that seat of Aca- 
demical training, not with such vague 
aspirations as young men generally take 
with them to College, but with a definite 
and cherished plan to execute. On the 
6th of July, 1 70S, he was admitted as a 
student at Harvard; and he celebrates 
the joyous occasion, not as students some- 
times did in that day, by convivial parties 
and mutual congratulations, but by laying 
the comer-stone of his New England 
Library. 

The eight years which he spent in 
Great Britain, and on the continent of 
Europe, were occupied, to a large extent, 
in making the acquaintance of scholars, 
and securing other facilities for carrying 
on the work he had undertaken. He no 
doubt regarded himself as a pioneer in the 
business of book-collecting, on this side the 
Atlantic ; and it seems to have been his 
ambition, to gather a Librar}' which should 
do honor to his country's scholarship, and 
which should cause his own name to be 
remembered with gratitude by all New 
Englanders. The following letter, writ- 
ten a few months after his return to his 
native land, will show what pains he took 
to improve a casual visit, and to interest 
an intelligent merchant in his favorite 
project As the letter is brief, and prob- 
ably has never been printed hitherto, wo 
will give it entire : 

Rotterdam, 25 March, 1718. 

lia. Prikob : 

Sia : — This comes to wish you much 
joy of your call to the ministry in Boston. 
I pray God give you good success, and may 
you live to ei^oy the fruits of your labor. 
You may well remember you were at my 
house when at B.otterdam. My acqiuiint- 
ance I own to be but small, but Mr. Loftus 
told me it might not be amiss to write you ; 
that it might lie in your power to xecom- 



mend some of your friends who trade this 
way, to consign what effects they send here 
to me. I will do them the utmost justite. 
You having been in some of these parts, 
some of your friends may inquire of you to 
recommend them to some fiiend you know. 
I desire your fisivor also, if that you want 
any books, or any other service to be done 
here for yourself, that you would command 
me ; and when any ships come frx>m Boston 
here, will be proud if you do me the honour 
to let me hear of your wel&re. I shall only 
add due respects, and am, 

Sir, your servant to command, 

John Stanton. 

This letter may have been meant as 
nothing more than a shrewd stroke of 
mercantile sagacity ; but even if it was, it 
shows on which side the writer thought 
best to approach Mr. Prince, in order to 
accomplish his object The allusion to 
books reveals the fact that Mr. Prince had 
made himself known chiefly as the founder 
of a library, in the Old World ; and that 
no more grateful courtesy could be ex- 
tended him than an offer to aid him in his 
cherished scheme. 

It is not possible for us, at the present 
day? to have any just conception of the 
value of the Library collected by Mr. 
Prince. No man in his time surpassed 
him, in fitness for the work he had under- 
taken. The facilities which he possessed 
for carrying out his plan, were also very 
great ; and the ever-increasing machinery, 
with reference to this darling object, was 
kept in operation by him for more than 
half a century. In view of these facts, we 
are driven to conclude that his collection 
of books and papers must have been im- 
mense, and of surpassing value, at the 
time of his decease. A feeling of sadness, 
mingled with indignation, comes over us, 
whenever we look at the few remnants of 
that magnificent Librar}', garnered partly 
in the Chapel of the Old South Church, 
and a few musty shreds of it stowed away 
in the Rooms of the Massachusetts His- 
torical Society I It is like the wreck of 
an Egyptian dty. All ita costliesi and 



18&&^ 



Thmm 



moet substantial treasures have either 
been destroyed, or barbarously mutilated 
and sujSered to fall into decay. Its chief 
ornaments, even the few which escaped 
the auto-de-fes of British royalism, are in 
such a condition as to render them nearly 
useless. Books, no doubt, which histo- 
rians and scholars would now prize beyond 
all limits, have been stolen from it, and 
carelessly or wickedly thrown away. Its 
most sacred relics, like the coluoms of 
Thebes, have been transported, and now 
stand, as objects of attraction, in the li- 
braries of other lands. As one glances 
along through the soiled remnants left 
us, his eye is arrested by such notices 
as this, written on the fly-leaf of a rare 
copy of Captain John Sniith's History 
of Virginia : ^ Claimed at an auction 
of books and recovered, in 1814, after 
having been out of the New England 
Library upwards of forty years, as sup- 
posed." Elnowing the methodical and 
accurate habits of Mr. Prince, it is proper 
for us to conclude that he left a complete 
manuscript catalogue of his books and 
other literary treasures. But no such 
catalogue has yet been found. It was 
probably destroyed, together with other 
papers and manuscripts, during the occu- 
pation of the Old South Meeting-house by 
the British soldiery. Not even a testi- 
mony to the good man*s unwearied labors 
remains. Succeeding generations have 
never known, and never can know, how 
indefatigably he toiled for their instruc- 
tion. The splendid inheritance was scat- 
tered and wasted while yet in reversion. 
The monument, which was to make the 
patient Christian scholar immortal, and 
wide as the learned world in his fame, 
perished on its way from the quarry. 

How much more fortunate, though per- 
haps far less deserving of the gratitude of 
posterity, are such as the late Thomas 
Dowse ! — who lived in an age when rare 
collections of books, however small and lim- 
ited in their range, are more duly appre- 
ciated; when scholars, and associations 
of literaij gentlemeni stand ready to take 



any such collection under their charge, 
and to preserve it sacredly in honor of the 
testator; and when the most eloquent 
pens and tongues are employed, to swell 
his praises and perpetuate his fame. 

Wo shall probably have occasion to 
speak again, of the labors of Mr. Prince 
as a collector of books, in the sketch of 
hb life which we propose to give. We 
have seen it intimated, by some writers, 
that he ought to have presented his Li- 
brary to Harvard College ; and, if he had 
done so, that his life-long labor would not 
have been thrown away. But this pre- 
diction would probably not have been ftd- 
filled, whatever may have seemed proper 
on the part of Mr. Prince. Had his col- 
lection of books and papers been at Cam- 
bridge, we must suppose that it would 
have been totally destroyed by the fire of 
Januar}' 24th, 1764. That sad calamity 
would have been far heavier than it actu- 
ally was, had the New England Library 
then met the fate of ** the best library and 
philosophical apparatus in America." ^ It 
will appear, we think, in the course of 
what follows, that Mr. Prince had some 
reason for not donating his books to Har- 
vard, even if such a course was ever sug- 
gested to him. 

The materials for the sketch to which we 
now proceed, are discouragingly meagre ; 
but we shall endeavor to use them, such 
as they are ; pursuing, as far as practicable, 
the chronological order. 

From the few notices which have been 
preserved, it appears that Thomas Prince 
was the great grandson of Rev. John 
Prince, of East Sheiford, in Berkshire, 
England. This ancestor, says the subject 
of the present sketch, *' was bom of hon- 
orable parents, educated in the University 
of Oxford, was one of the Puritan miuis- 
ters of the Church of England, who in 
part conformed, and ibund great iiiends 
to protect him in omitting the more otien- 
sive ceremonies as long as he lived." Of 
Elder John Prince, son of the clergj'man, 
little is known, except that he came to 

1 Qalncy*> Uist. Uarr. CoU., Toi. U., pp. 112, 118. 



Thomas Prince. 



[Jan. 



this counhy in 1633, lived for a time in 
Watertown, and finally became an inhab- 
itant of the town of Hull. Samuel Prince, 
Esq., son of Elder John Prince, was a 
resident of Sandwich, Massachusetts ; and 
in this place his fourth son, Thomas, was 
bom May 15th, 1687. The father was 
twice married. His first wife was Martha 
Barstow, by whom he had five children. 
His second wife was Mercy, daughter of 
Thomas Hinckley, the last governor of 
Plymouth Colony. Thomas was the first 
child by this marriage, and was named, 
probably, in honor of his maternal grand- 
father.^ Afterwards were bom nine oth- 
ers ; and therefore we must reckon the 
subject of this notice as one of a fam- 
ily of fifteen children. Several of these 
died early in life ; and one, Nathan, born 
November 30, 1698, has left a somewhat 
sad history in connection with Harvard 
College. 

In the absence of any clear records, 
which might throw light on the early life 
of Thomas Prince, we may perhaps ven- 
ture to reconstruct that life, at least some 
portion of it, by a process similar to that 
which in science is termed comparative 
anatomy. The skilful zoologist is able, 
from a single bone or tissue, to make out 
the entire frame of an animal. It is said 
that the single scale of a fish has served 
for such a work in the hands of the ichthy- 
ologist Why may not the biographer 
also, if he knows the general characteris- 
tics of the person he is describing, seize 
upon some fact in a period otherwise 
blank, and from that fill out the vacancy ? 
He may not reach the exact tmth ; but it 
should seem, certainly, that he might come 
near to it 

We have at hand a little volume enti- 
tled, " The Marrow of Modern Divinity." 
Opposite the title-page ofthis book, which 
is too much torn to inform us as to the 
date of its publication, occurs the name of 
" Thomas Prince'* Beneath this name, 
we learn that the owner of the work was, 
at the time of thus claiming it, about ten 

1 HiM.-Gen. Beg., Vol. v., p. 888. 



years old. And we also leara, in addition 
to this fact, that the volume was given to 
him "6y his mother" Turning over a 
single leaf, it appears further that he 
placed no slight value on the book ; for 
there, in the handwriting of his mature 
life, he carefully repeats the fact that the 
work was a gift from his mother, and that 
it came into his possession when he was a 
mere child. The cost of the volume, also, 
is carefully noted ; and, glancing along its 
pages, we find many of its most striking 
paragraphs marked with the same pen, 
apparently, which made the original en- 
tries. Now from this tell-tale volume, 
looked at, as it should be, in the light of 
the well-known characteristics of Mr. 
Prince in his manhood, several things 
may be inferred as probable. It warrants 
the inference that those habits of order 
and accuracy, which distinguished him in 
after life, were formed at an early age. 
In recording the price of this little book, 
the name of the giver, and the time when 
it came into his possession, the same 
thoughtfulncss was evinced which he dis- 
played as a traveller, and in the manage- 
ment of the most weighty afiairs. By the 
kindness of the Rev. Chandler Bobbins, 
D.D., of Boston, who in virtue of his fam- 
ily connections has inherited the manu- 
script Journal of Mr. Prince, we are 
enabled to verify these remarks. In this 
journal are noted the changes of weather, 
the events of every day experience, the 
smallest business transactions, the dates of 
letters, and to whom they were written, or 
from whom received — the whole manifest- 
ing, by its studied accuracy and complete- 
ness, a natural taste for such labor. 
Glancing from the carefully kept diary to 
the marks in the fugitive book, we trace 
in the latter the first forth-puttings of that 
peculiar style of mind which the former 
displays in its more mature workings. 
The child appears as father to the man. 
It was probably as true of Mr. Prince in 
boyhood, as in any period of his life, that 
he differed in his tastes from most of those 
around him. He had but few associates, 



1859.] 



Thomas Prince. 



we may suppose ; bnt little in common 
with the bojs of his own age. It is likely 
that they regarded him as quite singular 
in his habits ; as one who seemed most 
deeply interested in those things which 
had no attraction for themselves. This 
opinion would correspond with that which 
was often expressed of him during his 
manhood. His contemporaries, with the 
exception of a very few kindred spirits, 
looked on him as one who devoted his en- 
ergies chiefly to matters which had no 
interest for other minds. It was striking- 
ly true of him, that he walked in a path 
by himself. He was enthusiastic in doing 
that which the spirit of the times disre- 
garded. The field which was generally 
passed by, he entered, making it his special 
department of labor. It is possible that 
he looked forward to the gratitude of a 
coming age, and in the hope of this was 
compensated for any present loneliness. 

Whoever has read ** The Marrow of 
Modern Divinity," will be convinced that 
it was no ordinary child, who, at the age 
of ten years, could be interested in such a 
treatise. It is a profound theological 
work, in which the great doctrine of the 
Reformation, Justification by Faith, is pre- 
sented in its most Scriptural aspects. The 
passages which he has marked, and in 
which he seems to have delighted the 
most, are those which present Christ as a 
ground of hope and joy for the sinner. 
If there is a thread of religious melancholy 
running through his life, it is not owing to 
any gloomy view which he held of the 
way of salvation. The offer of full justi- 
fication, on the simple condition of faith 
in Christ, has everything in it to encour- 
age the desponding penitent. This fact, 
doubtlessly, accounts for its evident pre- 
ciousness to Mr. Prince, not only in boy- 
hood but as Ions as he lived. We know 
the religious peculiarities of his times. It 
is probable that he received a rigid Puri- 
tan training, in the family. His natural 
docility and love of retirement, must have 
given such influences great power over 
him. . Hence he would come to have very 



humbling views of his unworthiness and 
guilt before Crod, and would be driven to 
the doctrine of the mediation of Christ, for 
relief. Though he travelled more, per- 
haps, than the New England ministers of 
his day were wont to, and though he was 
largely concerned in public and secular 
afiairs, yet his inclination seems ever to 
have been for a secluded, meditative life. 
His thirst for information, his love for 
every species of curious knowledge, the 
exigences of the age, and the widely scat- 
tered family estate which he was charged 
with administering, caused him to do vio- 
lence to his early education and native 
tastes. It was well for him, no doubt, 
that such calls were allowed to draw him 
away from the pursuits which he instinct- 
ively loved ; for though he oflen bewails the 
necessity of these uncongenial afiairs, they 
probably counteracted, in some measure, 
his inclination to asceticism and the life 
of a recluse. The manuscript volumes 
already alluded to, contain several let- 
ters, written by Mr. Prince during his 
absence in Europe, in which he com- 
plains bitterly of the worldliness and 
wickedness eveiy where encountering him. 
He seems, indeed, to i:egard it as a crime 
on his own part to be thus circumstanced ; 
and he deeply abhors and abases himself, 
lest he should be guilty for barely behold- 
ing the ungodly conduct of others. These 
letters are to his *' honored and dear pa- 
rents ; " and they show plainly enough 
that he was still true to the tendencies 
and training of his childhood. 

Wc are almost certain, in the absence 
of positive testimony, that the religious 
experience of Mr. Prince began while he 
was yet a boy. Nothing less than this can 
account for his love of such books as he 
evidently reati at an early age. Possibly 
there was a little of the morbid element 
in his piety ; but we cannot be too careful 
to judge him mildly in this particular. 
Such confessions of guiltiness, such loath- 
ings of one*s self on account of sin, as he 
was wont to express, would perhaps be re- 
garded as savoring of affectation and spir- 



Thimm Prince. 



[Jan. 



itnal pride, at the present day. But in 
his case there is no straining — no attempt 
to make a great display of humility and 
heart-brokenness — ^but all appears to be 
natural and sincere. He was undoubted- 
ly inclined to the mystical ibrm of devel- 
opment, in his piety ; and this may be in- 
ferred not only from the character of his 
early reading, but also from the impres- 
aon he made generally on his contem- 
poraries. This does not imply that he 
was at all vague, in the articles of his be- 
lief, but that he inclined to the meditative 
rather than the active duties of the Chris- 
tian life. Piety has rarely shone with a 
more beautiful or sweeter light, than in 
the character of Thomas Prince. He had 
not so much the impetuosity of Peter, as 
the gentleness of John ; he loved the closet 
more than the field. But the day is over, 
when men are to be condemned for not 
showing their piety in one form rather 
than another. If they have the substance 
of faith in Christ, t)^at faith has its love- 
liest growth always in the direction of 
their natural tastes. Mr. Prince had 
more of the Oriental than of the Occi- 
dental element in his genius. This is 
shown by his stqdies, and by the pains 
which he took to furnish his Library with 
works illustrating the history and litera- 
ture of the East It is pleasant to us to 
trace these characteristics back almost to 
the beginning of his hbtory ; to find that 
he was promptly attentive to the grand 
concern of life, and that his piety, even in 
its germination, took the form which suited 
his type of mind. It was legitimate and 
unconstrained. It was not twisted into an 
abnormal shape, but grew up in the 
natural way, partaking of all the peculiar- 
ities of his nature, till it budded and blos- 
somed and bore fruit, aflcr its kind. Even 
in his childish pursuits at Sandwich, amid 
such influences as we might expect in an 
independent and refined Christian home, 
his piety took root and began to grow — a 
piety of which his subsequent devotedness, 
as described by his associates and friends, 
was bat *' the bright consummate flower." 



Filial affection must have been a marked 
trait in the early character of Mr. Prince. 
His peculiar temperament — which was 
ever quiet, shrinking and childlike — the 
commonness and excellency of this virtue 
in the times in which he lived, combine 
with many other things in leading us to 
this conclusion. It certainly is a noticea- 
ble fact, that his mother's name appears 
in a favorite volume of his childhood; that 
it is written with his own unpracticed 
hand, which also states that it was her 
gifl ; and more especially noticeable is it, 
as indicating the strength of his filial at- 
tachment, that the same fact is again re- 
corded carefully, afler the lapse of many 
years. In a discourse preached to chil- 
dren, soon afler his settlement as Pastor 
of the Old South Church, Mr. Prince has 
given us some glimpses of this lovely trait 
in his character. Speaking of the obliga- 
tions to early piety, he says to his youth- 
ful hearers, *' God has also been very 
gracious to you in the circiunstance, time 
and place of your birth. He has brought 
forth many of you of rich and honorable 
parents: and what is a thousand times 
greater privilege, God has made many of 
you to come of those that are virtuous 
and godly. The most of you are born in 
His gracious covenant : a distinguishing 

favor To be sure, your early 

devotion to God will be exceedingly de- 
lightful to your religious and solicitous 
parents. It will be their great honor and 
joy ; as your neglect of piety will be their 
most sensible disgrace and sorrow." In 
such direct and fervid appeals as this, we 
see proof that he was no wayward child ; 
that he prized the blessing of a Christian 
home ; that love for the father and mother 
who watched over his boyhood, was a life- 
long principle with him ; that he gladly 
paid the homage which is due from chil- 
dren to their greatest earthly benefactors. 
His reverence for the aged, for the great 
mcA of past times, and for his ancestors, 
which was so conspicuous a trait in his 
life, had its beginning far back in child- 
hood| when be bo piously recorded his 



1859.] 



Thomas Prmee. 



obligAtions to bis mother. The letters 
which he wrote during his journey to 
Europe, and which are preserved in his 
diary, breathe the same filial spirit They 
are addressed to his *' honored and dear 
parents ; " and though occupied with pious 
reflections, for the most part, they reveal 
the heart of an affectionate and grateful 
son. 

Mr. Prince entered Harvard College 
soon afler the completion of his sixteenth 
year — a comparatively advanced age in 
those times. We infer, from this circum- 
stance, that his mind was already fur- 
nished with much useful information, and 
his tastes and habits of thinking somewhat 
matured. It is not probable that he was 
moulded, as much as students are wont to 
be, by his residence at College; though 
this disadvantage, if it may be esteemed 
such, was attended with the advantage of 
a previous mastery of himself, which en- 
abled him to pursue his studies in an in- 
dependent and 8U(!ce5!sful manner. The 
traditions respecting his ancestors, some 
of whom were distinguished Divines in tfie 
English Church, and the fact that he was 
Ae grandson of a governor of Plymouth 
Celonv, no doubt had their influence in 
stimulating him to strive for high attain- 
ments in scholarship. We may suppose 
that but few excelled him in the regular 
studies of the course ; and it is also evi- 
dent, from what he says about beginning 

• 

bis Library at this time, that his investi- 
gations extended far beyond the ordinary 
routine of College life. Ho seems to have 
been seized, about this time, with an un- 
conquerable thirst for universal know- 
ledge ; which, in such a mind as his, was 
the natural result of attempting to make a 
large collection of books. Few works 
which he put into his Librarj' were un- 
read : many of them were carefully stud- 
ied, and filled with annotations from his 
pen. He began to read Divinity imme- 
diately af^er his graduation, which he 
continued for a little more than a year 
and a half, when he sailed for England. 
It appean to have been mainly as a Chris- 



tian student, seeking to enlarge and per- 
fect his scholarly acquirements, that he 
made this visit to the Old World. Dr. 
Wisner, in his History of the Old South 
Church, says that Mr. Prince " travelled, 
visiting different countries, * not as an 
idle spectator, but as a diligent observer 
of men and things, which appeared from 
the knowledge and experience he had 
gained in his travels.' " It is not impossi- 
ble that he had some thought of fitting 
himself for the position of an instructor in 
his Alma Mater. Such a hope would 
imply no unworthy ambition, and would 
well accord with his tastes and training. 
Yet he nowhere drops any intimation of 
this, so far as we have seen *, and if he was 
disappointed in any such scholarly aspira- 
tions, he bore the ill success meekly and 
uncomplainingly. He did not fVet, and 
openly declare his sense of unjust treat- 
ment — like the impetuous Cotton Mather 
— when he saw men of far less learning 
than himself, elected to vacant chairs in 
the University. 

The embarkation of Mr. Prince for 
Europe took place on the 29th of March 
1709, *' from the Scarlet AVharf in Boston, 
on board the Thomas and Elizabeth, of 
450 tuns, 24 guns and 40 men." This 
vessel was one of a ** fleet for Barbadoes, 
consisting of 8 Ships, 2 Brigantines and 
2 Sloops" ^ — a large enough armament, 
one would suppose, to satisfy the young 
traveller both as to dignity and safet}'. 
From the following entry, made in his 
Journal April 7, we may learn in what 
estimation Mr. Prince was held on board 
ship, and also what were his views of the 
proper discipline of sailors : ** The Cap- 
tain ordered me to draw up some laws 
for the good government of our ship, 
which are publicly to be read to-morrow." 
The result of this command was the fol- 
lowing code of " laws and orders, to pre- 
vent and punish profaneness and immoral- 
ity, and for the better management of the 
ship : I. Whosoever shall curse or swear, 
speak falsely, absent from dinner, wor- 
1 Bobbini Mairaioripl, Tol. U. 



8 



ThofnoB Prince. 



[Jan. 



ship, or sleep at it [worship,] shall receive 
three ferrules. II. He that steals, shall 
for the first ofience sustain the penalty of 
^yQ ferrules on each hand ; but for the 
second he shall have ten lashes. III. For 
fighting the punishment is five ferrules ; 
and he that shall be found most guilty 
shall hJEtve seven. IV. For drunkenness 
the first time six ferrules ; the next, he 
shall wear the collar at the commander's 
pleasure. V. He that shall sleep on 
deck, in his watch, shall sustain the pen- 
alty of three ferrules ; but if in his ham- 
mock, of four. VI. For cheating the 
glass, affinning the pump sucks when it 
does not, or leaving it before it does, three 
ferrules. VII. If any shall be found to 
have neglected information, for four hours, 
of the breach of the forementioned laws, 
he shall have two ferrules." * The word 
« ferrule" is not defined in our modem 
dictionaries, in any such sense as Mr. 
Prince evidently uses it here. It was 
probably an instrument of punishment 
with which his experience as a school-boy 
had made him familiar. Neither does he 
inform us as to its size and shape, nor as 
to the amount of force with which it was 
•to be applied, — matters of some impor- 
tance, we should suppose, to the unlucky 
offenders. 

After a voyage of twenty days, Mr. 
Prince landed at the island of Barba- 
does, — which fact he records with an ex- 
pression of gratitude to God. Here he 
remained nearly five months, making a 
multitude of curious observations, quite 
as noteworthy as many which figure in 
more modern books of travel, though 
hardly arresting the eye as it glances 
along his Journal, owing to the brief and 
unpretending style in which they are re- 
corded. We are interested to give a sin- 
gle paragraph, in this connection, which 
has reference to the subject of slavery ; 
and fvhich shows that Mr. Prince was not 
one of those travellers who are content 
with seeing only the sunny side of the 
peculiar institution. June 12, he says: 

1 Bobbins MS., yol.U. 



'* 'Tb computed that in this Island, to no 
more than 8,000 whites, there are no less 
than four score thousand negroes ; all ab- 
solute slaves, till kind death wrests them 
out of the hands of their tyrannic mas- 
ters. But alas I the miserables are en- 
tirely restrained from reflecting on them- 
selves, and on a future state. They know 
no interest but theirs that own them ; who 
engross all their strength and labor, — and 
their time also, except what the Supreme 
Grovemor has mercifully reserved to him- 
self. Then [i. e. on the Sabbath] they 
are at liberty to enjoy their own thoughts, 
and to regale themselves in the mean 
pleasures of a brutal appetite, and which 
scarce reach any farther than a drowsy 
joy for the transitory interruption of their 
slavery. Then it is, they endeavor to 
drown or forget their burdensome cares 
by the most frantic amusements they can 
imagine." * There is more in the same 
strain. But this is enough to show what 
English Slavery was a little more than a 
hundred years ago ; and could Mr. Prince 
return to the earth, and travel over some 
Southern plantations, it is probable that 
his impressions of American Slavery 
would be equally gloomy and revolting. 
On the 4th of September, Mr. Prince 
lefl Barbadoes, and continued his voyage, 
still on board the ** Thomas and Eliza- 
beth," to London. The records in his 
Journal show that this voyage afibrded 
him great satisfaction ; that his days were 
spent in an unusually pleasant and happy 
manner. Every paragraph reveals the 
student, and the lover of new and curi- 
ous information. He reached his destina- 
tion after a voyage of a little more than 
two months. His arrival shall be describ- 
ed in his own langua;re. " I took wherry 
[from Deptford] to London. Passed by 
multitudes of shipping ; and in an hour 
landed at St. James* Stairs, in Wapping ; 
where 1 lodged. But could not persuade 
the civil people who entertained me, that 
I was bom and educated in New England ; 
they apprehended it necessary that at 

2 aobbiiislf8.yoLtt. 



1859.] 



Thomtu Prmee. 



9 



least I had been before in London, and 
they wonderecf as much at mj carriage 
and deportment, as at the fuhiess and ac- 
cnracy of my language. And thus, per 
varioi easusj per tot discrimina rerunif Fve 
escaped the various chances and perils of 
the sea, am arrived at the happy port, 
and have the joyful satisfaction to see my- 
self in the greatest and most flourishing 
city of the universe^ Deo ter opt: 
max: GRATiiE.*'^ Here we see the 
sensitive student, anxious lest some de- 
fect in his speech or manner might be- 
tray his provincial education, and exult- 
ing in the fact that he had so far tri- 
umphed over the difficulties of the scholar 
in a new country, as to pass for a gentle- 
man bom and educated in England. His 
first nght of London was the fulfilment, 
no doubt, of the proudest dream of his 
childhood. We are drawn to the suscep- 
tible nature which could show such enthu- 
siasm, and abandonment of itself to joy, 
in such a moment ; aud as we read the 
fervid exclamations, which escape his free 
pen, we are sure that he had a large, ten- 
der and patriotic heart 

Mr. Prince remained in London and its 
vicinity four months, — from the 18th of 
November, to the 1 7th of March. This 
time was spent, as we might expect it to 
be by a young and enthusiastic traveller, 
in a city which had been the boast of his 
ancestors. His knowledge of distinguish- 
ed scholars and divines, of famous struc- 
tures, localities and relics of the past grew 
rapidly, as his Journal shows. During 
one of these four months he was ill ^* of 
nnall pox ;" from which, however, it does 
not appear that he suffered any permar 
nent injury, but on the contrary received 
much benefit : for he writes, on recover- 
ing, *'I find my spirits more vigorous 
.... than ever ; . . . . my senses clear- 
er, my blood warmer ; and in fine, the 
whole compages of nervous fibres with 
their fluids, exercise a greater force and 
a more equal motion." Afler this new 
item of science, which he had* compelled 
1 aobbiniMS.yol.tt. 
2 



even sickness to yield him, he sailed fitn 
London for the Madeira Islands, 17th of 
March, 1710. The ship stopped but two 
days at these islands, when the voyage was 
continued to Barbadoes; and after re- 
maining here somewhat more than two 
months, Mr. Prince returned to Great 
Britain in the Same vessel which had orig- 
inally brought him from New-England. 
Certain expressions in his letters, written 
during this second visit to Barbadoeti 
indicate that his circumstances were by 
no means agreeable. His uniform and 
outspoken piety seems to have got him 
many enemies, on that island of slaves 
and slave-drivers. He sends word to his 
father aud mother, to remember him ** at 
the throne of Grace ; that I may with an 
equal and courageous spirit, bear up un- 
der, and triumph over, the disheartening 
evils which attend me ; and thereby may 
be happily accomplished for some pecul- 
iar service to Grod and the world." * In a 
letter to a friend in Boston, written just 
before his departure for England, he 
speaks more particularly of the character 
of the people in Barbadoes : ^ Such is 
the despotic and absolute reign of de- 
bauchery, — so imperious its dictates, so 
strong its supports, so incontrollable its 
power, so numerous its assertors and de- 
fenders, — that a man has need of the 
powerful assistance of Heaven, super- 
added unto his own most earnest endeav- 
ors, to enable him to resist the raging and 
impetuous torrent, much more to get head 
and advance against it. What a perplex- 
ing thing may you imagine it to be, that 
I am obliged to hear so much horrible 
profaneness, and to see so many brutish 
inmioralities, and yet not in a capacity 

so much as to rebuke them But 

how dangerous, at the same time, are my 
own circumstances ! .... I would fain 
convince them that the practice of relig- 
ion is so far from being inconsistent wiUi 
the enjo3rment of the true pleasures of 
life, that it rather refines them, and makes 
them more relishing. But while I am en- 

a ]lobbli»M8.,yoLiU. 



10 



Thomas Prince. 



[Jan. 



daaToring to confirm it by my own exam- 
ple, I am in danger of extending my com- 
pUances bejrond the inviolable bounds of 
Cbristianity. By this means, when I 
reach forth my arms to receive them, 
tfiey draw me within the circle and pow- 
er of their vortex, and whirl me into the 
Hune inextricable misery."^ Fearing 
indi a remit as this, it is probable that 
the persecuted yoong preacher made bat 
few advances to his wicked associates; 
and his remark is well worthy the thought- 
fill notice of those who attempt to help on 
Christianity by coquetting with social 
evib, or who think to overcome an estab- 
liriied and gigantic wrong by making con- 
cessions to it 

On the 8th of October, we fiud Mr. 
Prince in London again, making entries 
in his Journal respecting the political 
troubles of the country, and strongly con- 
demning the measures of the Tories. 
His sympathies were evidently with the 
more liberal party ; and, in all the ques- 
tions affecting the welfare of America, he 
■eems to have manifested a hearty love 
fi)r the land of his nativity. A prediction 
respecting the ultimate independence of 
this country, which was made by him du- 
ing his stay in England, is worthy of men- 
tion here. It may be found in a post- 
script to an unpublished letter, in the Old 
South collection at the rooms of the Mass- 
achusetts Historical Society. The letter 
was written in 1 780, by Rev. John Mead- 
ows of England, and addressed to Mr. 
Prince at Boston. The postscript is in 
Latin; we know not for what reason, 
unless the writer feared that his remind- 
ing Mr. Prince of a remark unfavorable 
to the mother country might get abroad, 
and be construed as treasonable, should 
he venture it in the common language. 
Alluding to the strifes in Parliament re- 
specting the Colonial policy, and also to 
the troubles between the Assemblies and 
Governors in New-England, this corres- 
pondent says : ** From the banning of 
the fivementioned strife, I have not once 

i BoM»iMiiB.,T<LML 



reflected on what you, dear brother, 
while you were living in England, in finee 
conversation (if I rightly remember) de- 
clared to me ; namely, that in about an 
hundred §ears the New-England people 
toould be potoerful enough to wUkdraw 
from the realm of Old England, and ad- 
vance to the dignity of a free and inde- 
pendent nation" This prophecy cannot 
be regarded as merely a lucky guess on 
the part of Mr. Prince. It was the result 
of careful observations, both at home and 
in Great Britain ; and it shows that he 
was wont to generalize his stores of infor- 
mation, — that he not only possessed a 
vast magazine of facts in his memory, but 
also had a statesmanlike and &r-seeing in- 
tellect If he had lived a few yean 
longer, he would have seen his prediction 
fulfilled in a little more than half the 
time be had allowed for it 

It is uncertain how long Mr. Prince re- 
mained in London, upon this second visit 
His Journal continues for nearly a month, 
with accounts of sight-seeing, lectures at 
Gresham College, and other characteristic 
notices, till suddenly we lose sight of him 
for a period of more than six years. This 
time was probably spent for the most 
part in the parish of Coombs, Suffolk 
county ; where he ministered with much 
acceptance to a congregation of Dis- 
senters, and where he was urged to settle 
permanently. But his strong attachment 
to New England overbore all reasons for re- 
maining in the Mother Country. The ob- 
ject of his travels had been accomplished; 
and, with his mind thoroughly disciplined 
and furnished, he set his face resolutely 
towards the home of bis childhood. Nor 
were the people of Coombs, some of them 
at least, less firmly resolved still to be his 
parishioners. Not being able to retain 
him in their native country, they accom- 
panied him. There were three families 
of these, consisting in all of twenty-seven 
persons; and one of the number was 
Deborah Denny, who afterwards became 
the wife of Mr. Prince. 

One event, which took place during 



IBB9.] 



Thmm ProMs; 



n 



tiu* hociew«rc[ Toy«ge« ia worthy of sp^ 
cial Dodce : it leta as into what was prob- 
ablj one great secret of the success of 
Mr. Prince as a pastor. On the 9th oi 
Jane, 1717, neariy a month after leaving 
England, he writes as follows : ** Little 
Betty was very ill and restless all last 
night, in the mom grew still worse and 
fainter, till aboat half an hour after 
eleven she died. She was the second 
daughter of Mr. James and Mary South- 
gate, late of Coombs, and now bound to 
New-England. She was bom Monday, 
Aogoat 1,1709; was a very serious, 
thoughtful, sensible child, religiously dia- 
posed, was unusually inquisitive of divine 
things, and would ask a great many sur- 
prising questions. She was humble, silent, 
modest, and remarkably quiet, patient, 
spiritual and resigned in the time of her 
illnesa As she drew near her end she 
abounded in sweet, charming, sensible, 
and religious talk, which flowed from her 
with a wonderful facility, quickness of 
thought, and a sedate and savory spirit" ^ 
A few pages onward he speaks of her 
burial at sea, and gives the text of the 
funeral sermon he preached for her. 
Here we see the ardent impulses of the 
student gradually gathering themselves 
into a single channel. His six years of 
labor at Coombs have taught him to love 
the calling of a Christian pastor. There 
is a surprising change in the character of 
hisJoumaL The thirst for universal 
knowledge is toned down by a feeling of 
bve for souls. His heart has wound itself 
around the people to whom he has been 
ministering. Even the little children are 
dear to him. His native simplicity, his 
frankness and guilelessness, which often ex- 
posed him to the scoffs of rude men, have 
at length found beautiful expression. He 
is just the man to soothe the troubles of 
others by letting them see his own. He 
prizes, and gives himself up to a tender 
and responsive heart No excellence, no 
trial, no grief of his humblest parishion- 
ers escapes him. He is the watcher at 

i BobUBSll8.,yoLiiL 



thesiek-bed; he notes tiie progiMi of tte 
disease ; he embalms the virtuet Ibr whiok 
the little one was remarki^)le. We h^ 
hold here the beginning of Mr. Frineant 
career as a minister ; of that prompt syni* 
pathy with the sorrowing, in which ha 
never failed; of those gentle nnnistn^ 
tions, for which his nature so admiralty 
fitted him ; of those many funeral seiw 
mons, in which he so poured out his love 
for the departed ; of that strong afieotkm, 
which bound him as with a ten-fi>ld cord 
to his flock ; of that substantial suecea, 
which followed him throughout his long 
pastorate in Boston. It is not ofben that 
a minister has been so thoroughly fiimish- 
ed for his work. He was returning flram 
the Old World full of the bleasing of the 
Gospel of Christ It is no wonder that 
several churches in his native land, antie> 
ipating his arrival, were ** seeking to him 
as a precious gift of our ascended Sav- 
iour." » 
July 21, 1717, Mr. Prince writes: 
**I landed at Castle-Ialand [in Boston 
harbor] at 9 in the morning ; 1^. Stanton 
the Chaplain received me at the shore, and 
the Captain at the foot of the stairs, with 
a great deal of respect; though they had 
only heard of me, and had never seen me. 
. . . About 12 there came two yo\mg gentle- 
men in a boat from Boston, to enquire after 
me, and to let me know that my dear parents 
were alive, [and] had been a long time wait- 
ing for me at Boston. . . . After a very civil 
entertainment, about 1^, the Captain sent 
his pinnace to carry me up. I landed at 
the long whaif^ about 4 of an hour after 
the meetings began : and by that means I 
escaped the crowds of people that came 
down at noon-time to see me. For they 
tell me, there were about 500 came down 
on the wharf^ inquiring after me. But 
now the streets being clear, I silently went 
up to the old South-meeting; and none 
there knew me but Mr. Sewall then in the 
pulpit, Mr. Severs praying and preaching 
at that time with them. Nee me Deut 
aequore merait. Deo teb optixo maximo 

SOLI INNUME&iB AC FEaPBTViB LAUDE8." * 

1 Wlioer'a Uitt. Old SouOi Ohoroh, p. 82. 
a Bokl)lMlfS.,TOLiiL 



12 



Thomas Prince. 



[Jan. 



The vtao» modesty whicb caused the 
eagerij expected preacher to avoid the 
crowds at the wharf, was evinced at the 
close of the religions service ; when he 
made haste into the porch, on purpose to 
avoid Mr. Sewall's taking notice of [him] 
in public.^ How little did the meek- 
hearted Christian scholar think, in that 
interesting hour, that he had reached the 
scene of his life-long labors, and the sa- 
cred spot of ground with which his name 
and virtues would ever after be asso- 
ciated 1 Was it the hope of hearing his 
college classmate, Mr. Sewall, preach; 
was it the fact that the wishes of the Old 
South people respecting him had come to 
his knowledge ; or was it the good hand 
of God, foretokening his purpose to bless 
a beloved Church, which guided the foot- 
steps of that still and thoughtful worship- 
per? 

On the 25th of August, 1717, more 
than a month after his arrival in this 
country, Mr. Prince preached, for the 
first time, in Old South Meeting-house. 
*' September 29th, he was requested to 
supply the pulpit half the time for two 
months, and complied. December 20th, 
the Church gave him a call ; which he 
accepted February 9th, and was ordained 
October 1, 1718."* In this connection, 
with his friend Sewall for an associate, he 
labored forty years — till he went from his 
work to his reward. Dr. Wisner, speak- 
ing of the co-pastorate of these two men, 
■ays, it furnished ^ an example of mutual 
affection and union of purpose and pur- 
suit, for which the annals of collegiate 
chains will be searched for a parallel, I 
fear, almost in vain."' One cause of this 
unfaltering brotherly love, was, no doubt, 
the custom of the pastors to meet often 
for seasons of prayer. This is the source 
to which Dr. Wisner traces their life-long 
harmony and affection. But were there 
not other causes, some of them lying back 
of this V Though Dr. « Sewall had been 

1 Robbios MS., Vol. Hi. 

a Dr. Wlf oer't Hint. Old Soath Oboreh. 8 Ibid. 

* Mr. 8«waU wm nuult Doctor of DlriiU^, bj tbt 



pastor of the v Old South Church more 
than five years, when Mr. Prince was set- 
tled, yet in age Mr. Prince was his senior 
by a year and three months. Yet so 
unassuming, and so unambitious, was the 
great New-England Annalist, that in his 
sermons we find him alluding to his col- 
league as **your Rev. senior pastor."* 
The difference in age was so small, how- 
ever, that the two pastors could not well 
help agreeing, in their plans for the over- 
mght of the Church. The prosperity of 
the parish was an object to be sought 
equally by both, since it could not reflect 
at all on the past course of either. They 
had, moreover, been ** intimate" friends ; 
and the fact that they were classmates in 
college must have had its favorable influ- 
ence. Besides, they were treated by 
their people in a strictly impartial man- 
ner, which left no occasion for a sense of 
injustice on either side. They did not, 
like some parishes, cut down the salary of 
the '* senior" pastor; nor did they com- 
pel the new associate, — by whom a full 
share of the joint labor was no doubt pei^ 
formed, — to take a smaller sum than his 
colleague. On the 2d of October, 1719, 
the day after the first anniversary of Mr. 
Prince's ordination, and a few weeks be- 
fore his marriage, — the Old South Church 
passed the following votes : " Voted — 
That three pounds, five shillings per 
week be allowed, and by the deacons paid, 
to Mr. Joseph Sewall, our Reverend Pas- 
tor. Voted — That three pounds five shil- 
lings per week, be allowed and paid to 
Mr. Thomas Prince, our Reverend Pastor, 
from the time of his marriage ; and that 
he be desired, by the committee afore- 
mentioned, to remove into one of the 
ministerial houses of the Church, as soon 
as may be." * Such records as this are 
highly honorable to the men who ordered 
them ; and it is not to be wondered at, that 

UnlTorslty of Qlwgow, In 1781— ao booor wbich Mr. 
Prince iMTer Tcceired, tboagh tbe older, and much 
tbe more learned man of tbe two. 

6 Sermon on (be deatb of bis daughter Deborab 
Prinoe, et. al. 

6 Old Sooth Boeorda, Bigttow'eCopj, Yol. I. p. 80. 



1859.] 



Thomas Pmee. 



13 



rach pastors as Sewall and Prince, — with 
such a people, — toiled together happily 
and harmonioaslj. And the history x>f that 
joint pastorate, is a sufficient refutation of 
the charge, so oflen preferred in more 
modem days, that such a relation is in- 
consistent witJ] a contented mind and 
great public usefulness. 

The house which was so promptly pro- 
vided for Mr. Prince, and into which he 
soon moved, stood on the east side of what 
is now Washington Street, nearly oppo- 
site the present publishing-house of Messrs. 
Hcknor & Co. It had formerly been 
the residence of Governor Winthrop, who 
once owned the *' platt" of ground now 
in possesion of the Old South Society ; 
and Mr. Prince, in the advertisement to 
the Second Part of his Annals, says that 
Winthrop '* deceased in the very house I 
dwell in." The structure was of wood, 
and was taken down by the British to 
serve them for fuel during their occupan- 
cy of the Old South Meeting-house. The 
lady who presided as wife and mother in 
this sumptuous home, was ** Mrs." Debo- 
rah Denny, who had accompanied the 
young minister on his return firom Eng- 
land. The title prefixed to her name 
does not indicate that she had previously 
been married; Mr. Prince was wont to 
mention unmarried ladies in this way, 
after the English fashion of that time. 
His daughter, who was never married, 
and who died near the age of twenty-one, 
is called ** Mrs. Deborah Prince" in his 
funeral sermon for her. Mr. Prince was 
the father of five children. The eldest 
of these was Thomas. He seems to have 
inherited his father^s love of learning, and 
was graduated at Harvard College. He 
was the editor of the Christian Hidtory, 
published during the Great Awakening, 
and in which Mr. Whitfield is so warmly 
defended. But his early promise of use- 
fiilne^ was not fulfilled ; for he became 
the victim of wasting sickness while still 
a young man, and died in the 27th year 
of his age. The Boston Gazette says, in 
noticing his ^ lamented" death, that ** he 



was a young gentleman of great penetra- 
tion, solid judgment, and of sober pioos 
conversation." Mr. Prince never had 
another son. Of his four daughters, the 
two eldest died in early womanhood, and 
the youngest in infancy. His only child 
that ever married, was Sarah, the young- 
est but one. She became the wife of Liea- 
tenant-Govemor Gill, — not, however, till 
after her father's death; and she died 
childless, the 5th of August, 1771.^ 
Hence the family became extinct thirteen 
years after the decease of its founder ; 
and the name has been perpetuated only 
through some of the collateral branches. 
We may say,, in this connection, that Mr. 
Prince, near the close of his life, was the 
owner of several large tracts of land, 
It is probable that they came into his pos- 
session mainly by inheritance. He left 
land "in Shepscut, in the county of 
York," beyond Hartford in Connecticut 
Colony," ** in the county of Hampshire," 
" in Boston," " in Plymouth Colony," " in 
Wareham," " in Leicester, in the county 
of Worcester," ** in the East and West 
Wing of RuUand." The " East Wing of 
Rutland" is now a town by itself, bearing 
the name of Prince-ton. Lieutenant 
Governor Gill, who inherited the estate, 
and had his ** mansion" here, probably 
caused it to be thus named, in honor of 
his distinguished father-in-law. * 

The public ordination of Mr. Prince, 
as we have already stated, took place Oc- 
tober 1, 1718. The services of the day 
were described as follows, by Judge Sew- 
all : ** Mr. Wardsworth began with prayer, 
very well, about \ past ten. Mr. Prince 
preached from Heb. 13: 17. Mr. Sewall 
prayed. Dr. Increase Mather asked if 
any had to object; asked the Church 
vote, who were in the gallery, fronting the 
pulpit; and asked Mr. Prince's accept- 
ance of the call. Dr. Increase Mather, 
Dr. Cotton Mather, Mr. Wardsworth, Col- 
man, Sewall, lay their hands on his head. 
Dr. Increase Mather prays, gives the 

1 Drake*! Munoin, N. B. Hist.-OeD. Beg., pp. 888, 
884. a DiakAlHlMMry of BosUm, p. 688, (a.) 



u 



Thiomas JPrmee. 



[Jav. 



chaeeg^ ipnys again. Dr. Cotton Mather 
gives the right hand of fellowship. Dr. 
Increase Mather, when he declared whom 
the Elders and messengers had appointed 
to do it, said it was a good practice. 
8nng Psal. 68, 17-20;^ and Mr. Prince 
gave the blessing."* Of the sermon, 
preached by the Pastor elect, Dr. Chauncy 
says, " no ordinary man could write " it 
It displays a critical acquaintance with 
the original text of the Scriptures, and a 
wide range of study in history, theology, 
and classic literature. The first part of it b 
very much divided, and subdivided ; and 
the several topics are discussed in the 
most comprehensive manner — the whole 
showing that the young Pastor need not 
fear to measure swords with the most 
learned of his associates. Toward the 
close of the discourse, however, he drops 
the more scholastic style, and addresses 
his hearers in that direct and simple 
speech, which was most natural to him. 
Turning to his future charge, and asso- 
ciating his colleague with himself in 
thought, he says, " I must draw to a close, 
with humbly desiring these things of you : 
that you would indulge and nourish in 
you a dear affection for us; that you 
would account us the compassionate and 
faithful friefhtU of your precious souls, 
and endeavor to cultivate a pecxdiar ac- 
quaintance with us ; that you would freely 
repair to us under all your afflictions and 
^iritual troubles ; that you would let us 
know how you benefit and edify by our 
ministry ; that you would always give us 
a free and open access (o your hearts and 
consciences ; that you would never forget 
to pour out your earnest prayers every 
day for us." We have been obliged to 
abridge this extract, and to forbear quoting 
much more in the same strain — all going 
to show that the speaker thought more of 
men's souls than of auy reputation for 
learning, and that the near view of his 
responsibility as a Christian Pastor made 
him eager only to do good. He was never 

1 Baj 8tel» Goltooaon. 

S WteM^BiM. 0» 8. Obisob, y. llOlt (a*) 



pedantic, even in his published works; 
though these often exhibit vast enidition ; 
and his spoken discourses seem always to 
have been in that plain, Saxon style, 
which made it easy for a child to catch 
the thought Many illustrations of this 
might be given, had we the space for 
theuL He ever spoke of himself in terms 
of disparagement It would be difiicult 
to fiod, in all his writings, an expression 
which savors of vanity or ambition. In 
this particular he difiered vasUy from his 
learned friends, the Mathers. He even 
doubted his fitness for the pastoral office, 
and says, I " should scarcely have engaged 
in it, were it not for the persuasion of oth- 
ers, and the repeated call of Providence 

by so many churches. ' There is 

another consideration," he alsosays, "which 
afiects me with the utmost concern and 
abasement; and that is my succeeding such 
great and illustrious persons as have so con- 
spicuously distinguished and adorned yoor 
Society, and made it the more renowned 
and venerable throughout all the coun- 
try." * We should doubt the sincerity of 
such expressions — knowing, as we do, that 
Mr. Prince never had an equal for learn- 
ing in the pastorate of the Old South 
Church — were they not in entire harmony 
with the life and style of the man. This 
extreme self-distrust caused Mr. Prince to 
be a very dependent person socially. He 
threw himself on the afiection of his peo- 
ple. He did not conceal the longing of 
his heart, for their sympathy and tender 
forbearance. His private trials were 
often unbosomed in the public discourse. 
He felt that all troubles ought to enter 
into the coomion stock, among those who 
are one in Christ His sermons reveal 
this yearning for the love of his people, in 
many places ; and he was wont to speak 
of their joys and sorrows, as freely as of 
his own. His preaching abounded in 
facts, therefore, and was a kind of journal 
of the experience of the parish, with pious 
reflections. His personal appearance 

8 He bad raoeivwl ealLi fttMa at laait thrva churcli- 
m in Baglaod. 
« •< Ontinstka 8«B0B,>* IMieatlon, pp. 2, 8, 4. 



1859.) 



Thomat Pmet. 



16 



miut hmye added a peculiar chann to thu 
affectionate, confiding style of addreis. 
If the painters and engravers have done 
him justice, he most have heen a ve^ 
handsome man. His large, (nil eye has 
a womanly softness, the month is exquis- 
itely sweet and pla3rinl, all the features 
are regular, though manly, and the ele- 
vated open brow reveals his frankness 
and truthfulness of soul.* His ordinary 
preaching, though it abounded in horta- 
tory and emotional passages, was never- 
theless well filled with the milk and meat 
of the Gospel ; and on public occasions, 
as some of his printed discourses show, he 
could exhibit the depth and range of a 
well-fhrnished thinker. Some of his 
Thanksgiving sermons show that he was 
an eager student of the facts of nature, as 
they were dien understood. His power 
in the pulpit was not due to any arts of 
the orator ; for he read his discourses from 
a small manuscript volume, which, owing 
to some defect of vision, he held close to 
his face ; and he very rarely made a ges- 
ture, or raised his voice, or allowed his 
eye to wander from the written page. 
Yet that low tone, tremulous in the still 
House of God, revealed the unafi*ected 
love and earnestness of the holy man, and 
went to the hearts of his hearers, often- 
times, with overwhelming power. 

The childlike and emotional nature of 
Mr. Prince, fitted him to be especially 
happy in the public service of prayer. 
Many traditions have been preserved of 
his remarkable gift in this particular. 
He prayed like an inspired man — nay, 
like an inspired child. But we cannot 
enlarge. One instance of immediate 
answer to his petitions is celebrated 
throughout the Christian world.' 

If there were any doubt as to the strict 
Orthodoxy of Mr. Prince, it would be re- 
moved by his letters to Isaac Watts on the 
Deity of Christ The eminent bymnolo- 
gist of London has never been suspected 
of any wide departure from the evangeli- 

1 8m tk« •DgniMd Portnit pnflz«d. 

S 8m •« CoIvbWm OmUmI " ftw Dm. », USl. 



cal standards ; yet he does not seem to 
have come fully up to the doctrinal viewf 
of his co-laborer in Boston. '* You say," 
writes Mr. Prince, ^ you cannot yet as- 
sent to this position, that a denial f3^ the 
Deity of Christ is as culpable as that of 
the Father : .... for guilt arises chiefly 
from the proportion of light ; God the Fath- 
er is known in a hundred instances by n»* 
ture and Scripture, which yet say nothing 
of the godhead of the Son. To which I 
might answer — I know not an instance in 
nature, wherein any one f3^ the three 
particular persons, or whatever you call 
them, whether Father, Son or Holy Spirit, 
is discovered to us ; and as for the Scrip- 
tures, I know not that in one instance, 
they discover any one of these subsist- 
ences, without at least one of the others."' 
From this point he proceeds to argue very 
learnedly, and as we think conclusively, 
that the Deity of the Father is no more 
clearly revealed than that of the Son, in 
the Inspired Volume. We are sorry that 
we cannot quote more of this ingenious 
and thorough argument But a statement 
of its subject-matter is enough to fix the 
theological position of Mr. Prince ; since 
it is well understood what general system 
of belief one must logically adopt, if he 
believes in the proper Divinity of the Re- 
deemer. 

No one was more earnest than Mr. 
Prince in promoting the great revival of 
1740. Mr. Whitfield received his full 
sympathy and hearty cooperation. And 
when many of the churches in and around 
Boston had become hostile to the move- 
ment, and were charging its friends with 
fanaticinm, the ** great Itinerant ** found in 
Mr. Prince a warm and able defender. 
When letters of warning came in, from 
prominent Divines, associations of minia- 
ters, and Harvard C<dlege even, both the 
Pastors of the Old South Church stood 
their ground firmly; and, with tongue 
and pen, by giving up their pulpit to 
Tennent and Whitfield, and with their 
prayers and brotheriy counsel, they helped 

• JM>MBSltt.,ToLil. 



16 



Thomas Prince. 



[Jan. 



onward the work. Mr. Prince contributed 
many pages to the " Christian History," — 
edited by his son, and undertaken at his 
suggestion— defending Whitfield against 
the aspersions of his opponents, calling 
attention to the progress of the revival, 
showing its Christian spiri^ and blessed 
results. The Church to which he minis- 
tered, shared largely in these fruits ; and 
it was the impulse received at this time, 
probably, which saved that Church from 
going down, half a century later, when so 
many churches around it were falling 
away from their foundations. It yet 
stands, a striking illustration of the fact, 
that any Church which would preserve 
it! doctrinal purity, and vigor of spiritual 
life, must hail the advent of revivals, and 
joyfully put itself in the way of their in- 
fluence. Could Thomas Prince have re- 
turned to the scenes of his ministry, and 
been, in 1858, what he was in 1743, no 
eye sooner than his would have detected 
the rising of the " little cloud ; " he would 
have been the last man to complain of 
any apparent irregularity ; and his whole 
soul and strength would have been de- 
voted to the great ingathering. 

The building in which the Old South 
Church now worship, is fragrant with 
memories of Mr. Prince. It replaced the 
original structure in 1 730, twelve years 
af\er his settlement. The early fathers of 
New England, owing to their dread of 
prelatical forms, would not have the 
Scriptures read in the public worship of 
God on the Sabbath. This prejudice was 
overcome during the ministry of Mr. 
Prince. April 24, 1737, the Church 
voted, ** that the holy Scriptures be read 
in public ai^er the first prayer, in the 
morning and afternoon : and that it be 
left to the discretion of the pastors, what 
parts of Scripture to be read, and what 
to expound." * It was on the 9th of Octo- 
ber, 1758, only two weeks before his 
death, that his people passed the follow- 
ing votes: ** 1. That the revisal and im- 
provement of the New England Version 

1 Dr. WiflMr*i Hist OM Sooth Ohuefa. p. 108, (n.) 



of the Psalms by our Pastor, the Rer. 
Mr. Prince ; together with the Hymns an- 
nexed, be used in the Church and Con- 
gregation, as our Psalm-Book. 2. That 
these Psalms be sung without reading line 
by line, as has been usual."* It is pleas- 
ant to meet with these votes of a grateful 
and appreciative flock ; and such records 
show that neither Mr. Prince nor his peo- 
ple were wedded to the past — that their 
piety was of an enterprising and progres- 
sive type ; standing as a worthy example 
to all their successors. 

A more extended notice of Mr. Prince's 
labors as a hymnologist, and also some 
estimate of his merits as an historian, 
must be postponed for a future Article. 

** The 22d of October, [1758,] will be 
remembered as a remarkable day in the 
history of the Town, and not only of 
Boston, but of New England ; for on that 
day died the Rev. Mr. Thomas Prince, a 
benefactor to his country ; leaving a name 
which will be venerated to the remotest 
ages, if literature shall then be valued ; a 
name which may with pride be emulated 
by the inquirers afler historical knowl- 
edge, and the admirers of precision and 
accuracy in the paths of history."* That 
22d of October was the Sabbath; the 
day on which his collection of Psalms 
and Hymns was used, for the first time, by 
his people. The lips of their beloved 
pastor were forever sealed ; but they still 
had his life and spirit embalmed in those 
sacred poems, to be with them, guiding 
them and comforting them. In the 
twinkling of an eye, had he been chang- 
ed ; mortality had blossomed into immor- 
tality; his own sweetest thoughts awoke 
in music on the tongues of his weeping 
congregation, as he sank into that blessed 
sleep which Christ giveth to His beloved. 
The mystery of the two lives was made 
perfect by his departure, for he still prais- 
ed God in the voices of the living, though 
gone to be a member of the choir of an- 
gels. 

2 Old South Eeeordfl, Blgtlow*a Oopy, Vol. I, p. SAT. 
S Itaiikt*i Hlifeocy of Boston, p. 616. 



1859.] (kngregtjiionalkm — its Feahires and Superiarities. ' 17 



CONGREGATIONALISM : 
ITS ESSENTIAL FEATURES, AND INHERENT SUPERIORITIES. 

BT REV. H. M. DEXTER, BOSTON. 

t 

It teems appropriate that the first nam- So, in the 20th chapter, (vv. 20-28,) 

ber of a new Quarterly, devoted to the when the mother of James and John was 

interests of Congregationalism, should con- an applicant, on behalf of her sons, for 

tttn some statement of its distinguishing some special place of honor in the new 

principles, and some exposition of the ^* kingdom/' and the application had dis- 

xeasons why those who love, and labor for turbed the other ten, as if the best places 

tl, believe that — both in its nature, and in that ** kingdom" were in danger of 

nataral resnlta — it is better fitted to bless being surreptitiously taken, Christ, in 

men and to glorify God, than any other rebuke and explanation, ** called them 

fimn of Church Grovemment The fol- unto him, and said: Ye know that the 

lowing article is an attempt briefly to in- princes of the Gentiles exercise do- 

dicate its distinctive peculiarities, and to* minion over them, and they that are 

establish its superior intrinsic excellence, great exercise authority upon them. 

1. What are the distinctive features of But it shall not be so among you : but 

Congregationalismj as compared with those whosoever will be great among you, let 

of other Ecclesiastical systems f him be your minister (dtdxoyog — *one 

This inquiry has special reference to dusty from running/ a runner or servant) ; 
Congregationalism as it enters, as a pre- And whosoever will be chief among you, 
sent force, into the religious life of men. let him be your servant (dovXog — * bond- 
But a preliminary glance backward is a slave/ humblest servant) ; even as the 
prerequisite to any intelligent answer. Son of man came not to be ministered 

The Church dates from days described unto, but to minister," &c. So, again, in 

in the book of Genesis. But the Christian the 23d chapter, (vv. 8-11,) Christ in- 

Charch had its origin in the teachings and structed his disciples : " Be not ye called 

labors of Jesus. The Gospels contain no Rabbi ; for one is your Master, even 

record of any prescribed organic plan Christ, and all ye are brethren. And 

ibr its life, yet we should miss the entire call no man your father (spiritual supe- 

teitimony of the New Testament upon the nor) upon the earth; for one is your 

subject, if we overlooked three important Father, which is in heaven. Neither be 

passages in the record of Matthew. 7^ called masters, (xadrjYr^Tal—' leaders 

In the 18th chapter, (vv, 16-1 7,) Christ of the conscience ') ; for one is your Mas- 
directs that an ofience which cannot be ter, even Christ But he that is greatest 
privately settled, be told to the Church, (really greatest) among you shall be your 
and " if he neglect to hear the Church, servant," (didxovog). These passages ne- 
(ix«i^a^—» the assembled/ the congrega- cessarily involve the doctrine of the in- 
tioo of believers,) let him be unto thee as herent essential equality in rank of all 
an heathen man and a publican ; " thus true believers on earth, and require theur 
establishing the principle that, so far as subjection only to God as Father, and to 
mtemal (Uscipline is concerned, the de- Christ as Teacher and Head. And, since 
cision of any associated local body of be- every organic body must have some gov- 
lieren shoidd be final to all under ita emment, these precepts — so far as they 
jurisdiction. were left unmodified to mould the future — 

8 



18 C^^^ratow^ 



appear to have been intended to control 
all ideas of government which might be 
subsequently proposed for the external 
development of the Christian Church, and 
oblige it, under whatever form, to recog- 
nize this essential equality among its entire 
membership, and provide for a minifltry of 
service and not of rule. 

We find no record of any counter 
teaching Scorn our Saviour's lips. The 
only passage which requires^ notice, as 
being even seemingly of different charac- 
ter, is that in the 16th of Matthew, (w. 
18-19,) where Christ, in response to Pe- 
ter's frank and earnest avowal of faith in 
his Messiahship, says : ** thou art Peter, 
(Iliiqog — Petros) and upon this rock 
(niiqq, — petra) I will build my Church ; 
and the gates of hell shall not prevail 
against it. And I will give unto thee the 
keys of the kingdom of heaven : and what- 
ever thou shalt bind on earth shall be 
bound in heaven ; and whatsoever thou 
shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in 
heaven." This might, at first glance, look 
like the conferring of some special func- 
tion and honor upon Peter, either as an 
individual, or as the representative of a 
class. Accordingly we find that the 
Romish Church has, with short logic, rea- 
soned from this passage thus : * Peter was 
the rock on which the Church was built ; 
but a foundation rock must necessarily 
have existence, at least as long as its super- 
structure, and the promise must therefore 
be to Peter in some sense allowing of suc- 
cession, and so of permanence ; but the 
Bishop of Rome is the legitimate successor 
of Peter ; therefore diis promise of Christ 
is made to the Bishop of Rome, who, 
through all lime, is thus constituted the 
earthly head of the Church — having the 
power of (the keys) admitting to, or ex- 
cluding fix>m heaven.' This was not so 
understood, however, by the Apostles, for 
on one occasion (Acts xv : 7-80), the 
counsel of James was followed to the re- 
jection of that of Peter, and Paul once 
(Gal. ii : 11) ** withstood him to the face, 
becooae he was to be Uamed." Nor «Ud 



the early Christian Fathers so understand 
it.^ We find am6ng them indeed the 
germs of all subsequent criticism upon the 
subject It is obvious that Christ either 
referred to the declaration of faith which 
Peter had just made, and meant to say — 
" upon the rock of this great truth, I will 
build my Church;" or that he turned 
suddenly from Peter to himself, and meant 
to say — ** upon the rock of myself, as the 
Messiah, I will build my Church;" or 
that he referred directly to Peter, and 
meant, in some sense, to say — ^^ upon yon, 
Peter, I will build my Church." The 
latter is unquestionably the most natural, 
and therefore the most probable sense. 
Nor does it require the adoption of the 
Romish hypothesis — ^in itself unnatural 
and absurd, and unsupported by any 
shred of other Scripture. We simply 
need to understand here such a slight play 
upon words as is very coomion in the sa- 
cred writers (vide Matt v : 19, xx : 16, 
&c., &c.,) and we get a sound and strong 
and sufficient sense, without any sugges- 
tion of Peter's lordship over God's heri- 
tage either for himself, his class, or their 
successors. * Thou art Peter — Syriac, "Ce- 
phas " — (a rock, so named by Christ him- 
self—John i: 42, because of divine in- 
sight into his character) and upon this 
rock (this solid fitness — in essential bold- 
ness a^d firmness of character — for service 

1 Some few of th«m regarded the wtrpa of the 
Ohnrch as being Peter ; more as the faith of Peter ; 
others andemtood the reference to be to Christ. 
Aagnstine changed his view ttam the former to the 
latter, as he says, (Betrac, 1 : 21.) Jerome says, 
(Ed. Bened. ii : p. 688,) " Ecelesia Oatholfca taper 
Petram Christum stabili radioe fundata est." Am- 
brose says, (in Lne. ix: 90,) " Fetra est Chn$tu$: 
edam dlsoipolo sao hnjos rooabali gratiam non 
negarit nt ipse sit Petms, qaod de^ Petra habeat 
soliditatem constantiae, fldei flrmitatem." Aagnstine 
ealls Ptnil "Ipse capatet prlneeps Apoatolorom.** 
(Xd. Beoedle. iU: 281S.) So Ambmes declares, (De 
Spir. Sano. U : 18,) " nee Paulas inferior Petro." 
And Theophylact, (Luc. z.) calls aU the Apostles 
Kopv^aiot — head men, leaders of the Ohareh. Xren 
€lrcgory YII. (Hildebrand) admUted the doctrine 
taoght last by Aognstiae, for when he deposed 
Henry IT., he sent a crown to Radolphas with the 
Inscription, " Pura (Chrift) dedit Fnro, Petras dla- 
dama Bodolpho/*— (ridt Buontoii T«L xl* f. IM.) 



1869.] (hngpregaiioMlimt — ik Features- and SuperiorUm. 10 



in the difficiilt work of winning men to 
tbe Gospel,) I will build mj Church; 
thy labors shall become a foundation 
stone on which it shall rise/ This inter- 
pretation is borne out by the fact that 
Peter was the first to preach Christ to 
both Jews (Acts ii : 14,) and Gentiles, 
(Acts X : 34.) Olshausen seems to lean 
toward the idea that Peter's enunciated 
truth was the rock, yet he says, (YoL 1, 
p. 550, Kendrick's translation,) *^ the faith, 
and Ids confession of it, must not he re- 
garded as » apart from Peter himself per- 
umaUy; it is identified with him — ^not 
mth the old Simon but with the new Pe^ 
ter." And as to the power of the keys, it 
is enough to suggest that, so far as the 
natural idea of opening which attaches to 
a key is modified by Biblical use, it gets 
mainly the sense of * power of superintend- 
ence with reference to the bestowal of 
certain privileges,' ^ and its simple use 
would seem to be to promise to Peter that 
he shall be made the instrument for open- 
ing the door of the Church to the world, 
as he was made afler the ascension. And 
if any idea of vesting power over the 
Church in Peter, as an individual, or as 
representing the Apostles, be insisted on 
in connection with this verse, by turning 
over to the 18th chapter (v. 18,) it will 
become clear, that the same power of 
binding and loosing was there conferred — 
and in the same language — upon the 
whole body of the disciples — the entire 
Church, as then existing. So that this 
passage, in no sense, contradicts or mod- 
ifies those teachings of firatemal equality 
among his followers, which Christ had be- 
fore solemnly promulged. 

So far, then, as the Grospels are con- 
cerned, it appears to be settled that as 
Christ was the visible and only head of 
his Church so long as he remained on 
earth, and beside him there was no supe- 

1 TtrtoUiaa (<to Munlte adr. Pfyeh. o. 16,) n/s, 
ftUudbig to PftaPs permiisloD (1 Gor. x : 26,) to Mt 
** wtaAltVOT Is aold In the ahambles," ** oIatm maoelli 
tM fermdldlt ;>*— Pmil hu giren to yon the keys of the 
mmt merfrwt meiriag fnm authority to buy uid 
•■I vhatcfw is Mid tbMSt 



riority and no ruling, but all were breth- 
ren, equal in rights, however unequal in 
their performance of service, or their earn- 
ing of honor ; so it was his idea and inten- 
tion in regard to the practical develop- 
ment of the Christian Church through all 
the ages, that he should remain, though 
ascended, its invisible yet still real and 
only head, and that its membership should 
permanently stand on the same broad 
platform of essential equality. 

Passing on to the Acts of the Apostles, 
we shall see that they bear the most de- 
cided testimony that this teaching of 
Christ was received, and acted upon, by 
his followers, in the sense which we have 
put upon it The* Christian Church of 
the first century — so far as the Acts of the 
Apostles convey its history — was governed, 
not by Peter, or any other Apostle, as in 
Christ's stead ; nor by all the Apostles, in 
their own right, or by any delegation of 
power from Christ ; but by itself— by its 
entire membership— debating, deciding, 
doing. 1 



1 TheeneDoe of the GhrUrtiaii eonmranlty reeiedon 
thie : that no one indlfidoal should be the chosen, 
pre<imlnent organ of the Holy Spirit for the gnidanoe 
of the whole ; but all were to oodperate, each at his 
particular position, and with the gifts bestowed on 
him, one supplying what might be wanted by 
another, for the adranoement of the Christian lift 
and the common end. — Neander, Vol. 1, p. 181. 

The Jewish and later Catholic antitheais of clergy 
and laity has no place in the apostolio age. The 
ministers, on the one part, are as sinftil and depend- 
ent on redeeming grace as the members of the con- 
gregations ; and the members, on the other, ihare 
equally with the ministers in the blesslni^ of the 
gospel, enjoy equal freedom of access to the throne 
of grace, and are called to the same direct communion 
with Christ, the head of the whole body.— SchafT. 
History of the Christian Church, A. D., l-SU ; p. 
131. 

The anembled people, therefore, elected their own 
rulers and teachers, or by their free consent receired 
such as were nominated to them. They also, by 
their luffrages, rc^Jeeted or confirmed the laws that 
were proposed by their rulers, in their assemblies ; 
they excluded profligate and lapsed brethren, and 
restored them ; they decided the controTerdes and 
disputes that arose ; they heard and determined the 
causes of preebyters and deacons; in a word, the 
people did eTerything that is proper for those In 
whom the tvpremt power of the community is tested. 
• • Among all the members of the Church, of 
whatsTsr ciaas or oondlUon, there «m the asoit ptr* 



20 C(mgregciti(mdKsm — its Features and Superiorities. [Jaii. 



This is made evident by the examina- 
tion of all those passages which contain a 
record of church action. In the appoint- 
ment of some one in place of Judas, (Acts 
i : 15-26) it appears that an hundred and 
twenty church members were present, and 
Peter, after referring to the fate of the 
apostate, expresses his conviction of the 
necessity that some one who had been 
in and out with them in attendance on 
Christ's teachings, should (ysviaOai) be 
made, or appointed, an official witness, 
with the eleven, of "his resurrection." 
And they appointed two, (JSairjuav d{fO — 
they * caused or selected to stand forward 
two ') and then, being unable or unwilling 
to decide between them, having joined in 
solemn prayer to Christ that he would de- 
cide for them — receiving him as still their 
real and only head — they gave forth their 
lots, and the lot fell upon Matthias, who 
was thenceforth numbered with the eleven 
Apostles. Moshcim even goes so far as 
to translate this phrase (sduixav xX/iQovg — 
*gave forth their lots'), they cast their 
votes, making the passage teach that the 
suffrage of the one hundred and twenty 
was introduced not merely, as it confess- 
edly was, in the selection of the two, but 
in the subsequent election of the one. 
And even Chrysostom (Hom. Ad. Act. i. 
p. 25,) says : " Peter did every thing here 
with the common consent; nothing, by 
his own will and authority. He left the 
judgment to the multitude, to secure their 
respect to the elected, and to free himself 
from every invidious reflection. He did 
not himself appoint the two, it was the 
act of all." Perhaps the real sense of the 
passage may be cleared by considering 
the nature of their subsequent action, 
which it would be natural to assume — in 
the absence of any evidence to the con- 
trary' — would be in harmony with what 
was then done. 

We find, then, (Acts vi : 1-6) that when 

ftct eqaality ; which they manifested by their lore 
flBMts*, by the use of the appellatioDB, brethren and 
Misiertt Mid In other ways.— Mordock'f Moihdm, 
ToL 1, pp. C8, 69. 



it became needful to appoint deacons to 
aid the apostles in " serving tables,** the 
twelve assembled " the mnltitade of the 
disciples," and, having explained the ne- 
cessit}", said : " Brethren, look ye out 
among you (inurxitpaads — ^search oat*) 
seven men of honest report, full of the 
Holy Ghost, and wisdom, whom we may 
appoint {xtttaat^aofisy — *set in place/ 

* cause to stand,' ^ induct into c^ce,') over 
this business. And the saying pleased 
the multitude, (narrbs rov nli/idovg — *• the 
all of the fulness of people,')' and they 
chose (i^eli^ayjo — ^* selected out') Ste- 
phen, &c. &c., whom they set before the 
Apostles," — for what purpose appears from 
the record of what was done : ^ And 
when they [the Apostles] had prayed, 
they laid their hands on them," i. e. by 
way of solemnly inducting them into the 
office to which they had been chosen by 
the free suffrage of all. We find, more- 
over, that the whole membership acted in 
the choice of the messengers, or delegates 
of the Church, as Paul says (2 Cor. viii : 
19), in honor of Titus, that it was not 
only true that his praise was in the gospel 
throughout all the churches, but that he 
had also been ** chosen (x^tQOToyijOele — 

* appointed by vote of the outstretched ^ 
hand,') of the churches to travel" with 
himself. So the whole Church voted in 
the choice of their presbyters or pastors. 
The authorized version indeed says (Acts 
xiv : 23) of Paul and Barnabas : ** And 

1 This eenae of the Ttrb is not only eCymologleaUy 
exact, but it has the sanction of the usage of the 
classical and early Christian writerii Demostheniif 
{De CorofULy sec. 65 and sec. 9,) uses the Terb hrixti* 
poTowtiv in the sense of electing by show of a map 
Jority of hands. (See also Smith*s Dic'y Greek and 
Roman Antiq. p. 271, art. Cheirotonia.) So Ignatius 
(Ad Phil. c. 10,) says :" it will become you, as the 
church of (}od, to choose' by hand rote {xf^poroptivai) 
some deacon to go there." So (Ad Smym. c. 11,) be 
says : *< it will be fitting, and for the honor of God, 
that your church elect (xctporoy^cai) some worthy 
del^^te." MoreoTer, the Council at Neocaeaarea 
(Cone. Neocaes. c. 11,) forbade that a presbyter be 
chosen (/iif xc'/>oroy(iff0ci)) under thirty years of aga. 
The Council of Antioch (Cone Antioch, o. 19), and 
tha Apostolical Canons ((^an. Apoa. o.l,) OM tlis 
iiiiM word in tbtiaiiM 



).] Ctrngregaiknalim^-'^ Features and SuperMUes. 21 



they had ordained them elden in 
Church, and prayed, with &8ting, 
iommended them to the Lord/' &c., 
ig the impression that the elders, or 
fters, or pastors, were put over the 
lies by Paul and Barnabas in right 
ir Apostleship, and without any in- 
on even, of consultation with, or con- 
rom, the churches. But the passage 
ly reads, " now having (j[Biqoxop- 
es) chosen^ by vote of the outstretched 
eiders in every Church," &c. This 
seem to mean either that Paul and 
kbas by voting thus, chose elders for 
torches, or that they simply secured 
mperintended the choice in each 
;h, by vote of the Church, of the ne- 
y officers, — which latter sense not 
its better the proprieties of the case 
id, but corresponds more faithfully 
the tenor of the general record.^ 

Alexander, himBelf a Preebjterlan — whom 
ents of the New Testament Greek will respect 
jid eritle — says of this transaction : " the oae 
particular ezpreesion, which originally signi- 
Tote of an assembly, does suflEloe to Justify us 
KMing that the method of election was the 

that recorded, (Acts Ti : 6, 6,) where it is ex- 
recorded that the people chose the eeTen, and 
.▼• ordained them."~Alezander on Acts, toI. 

t Barnes, also a Preebjrterian, says on this 
, ** probably all that is meant by it is that 
iol and Barnabas) presided in the assembly 
m choice was made. It does not mean that 
pointed them without consulting the Church, 
rldently means that they appointed them in 
fcl way of appointing officers, by the suffrage 
•ople." — Notes on Acts, p. 211. 
f the older critics we find Matthew Tlndal 
Rights of the Chr. Chh. Asserted, &c. Lond. 
' We read only of the Apostles constituting 
y the suffrages of the people, which, ac it Is 
line signification of the Greek word used, so 
)rdingly interpreted by Erasmus, Beia, Bio- 
id those who translated the Swiss, French, 
Belgic, and eren English Bibles, till the 
al correction, which leares out the words 
idon,' as well as the marginal notes, which 
aat the Apostles did not thrust Pastors into 
reh through a lordly superiority, bat chose 
Md thmn there by the Toice of the congrega- 

tie's translation (A. D. 16S4,) reads, **And 
mj had ordened them seniours by eleocion in 
mgregacion," &c. Cranmer's, (A. D. 1689,) 
rhen they had ordened them elders by elee- 
wwtj ooBgregMlon," &o. Xh« Qntmn, 



Evidently, also, the whole Church acted 
in the discipline of offending members — 
as Christ had commanded (Matt xviii : 
17)— for Paul says (1 Cor. v : 18,) to the 
Church at Corinth of a certain offender, 
** put away from yourselves that wicked 
person.'* And afterward, (2 Cor. ii : 6,) 
he says — apparently referring to subse- 
quent action of theirs in the same case, 
which had been caused by his advice — 
^ sufficient unto such a man is this punish- 
ment, which was inflicted (j^tio rQy 
nls^dt^atv) of * the many,' i. e. the mass of 
the voting Church. It b also very clear 
that the whole membership was consulted 
in cases of doubt and difficulty. This was 
done in regard to Peter (Acts xi : 1-18,) 
when there was a question whether he 
had done right in preaching the Gospel to 
the Crentiles, and, after they had heard the 
evidence in the case, they (*' the Apostles 
and brethren,") " held their peace and 
glorified God, sa3ring: then hath God 
also to the Gentiles granted repentance 
unto life." So, in the question whether 
to require Gentile converts to be circum- 
cised or not, we find (Acts xv : 4-31,) 
that Paul and Barnabas ** were received 
of the Church and of the Apostles and 
elders," and stated the case, after which 
** it pleased the Apostles and elders, toith 
the whole Churchy to send chosen men of 
their own company to Antioch," &c. They 
accordingly chose Judas and Silas — who 
were neither Apostles nor elders, but only 
** chief men among the brethren " — ^to go 
to Antioch, and sent a letter by them, be- 
ginning: **the Apostles and elders and 
brethren^ send greeting," &c. When this 
committee reached Antioch, they called 
not the officers of the Church, merely, 
together, but (t6 Tikrfioi;) the multitude, 
and delivered them the Epistle, ** which 
when they had read, they rejoiced for the 
consolation." Thus the whole book of the 
Acts is veined by like democratic refer- 

(A. D. 1567,) " And when ibey had ordained tbem 
elders by election in erery Ohnrohe," Ite. The 
Bheiffls, (A. D. 1582,) ** And when they hwi ordaiiMd 
to Uum piiMli in afiiy Ohnnli,'' ft«. 



%% 



Qmffipegalmo^^ |Ja9. 



ence to ** tha brethren," as the court of 
ultimate i^peal, and the last lesidence of 
the power that was in the Church. This 
same chapter goes on to tell us signifi- 
cantly (y. 33,) that after Judas and Silas 
had tarried a space at Antioch, ^* they 
were let go, in peace, from ike brethren^ 
unto the Apostles." 

The Apostles were, from the speciality 
of their position, exceptional to all rules, 
yet they were always careful to throw the 
weight of their influence on the side of 
popular rights. They counted themselves 
'* less than the least of all saints," and 
their language to tilie masses of the Church 
was, ^ ourselves your servants for Jesus' 
sake." They claimed no authority over 
the Church because they were Apostles, 
and taught those chosen of the Church 
whom they inducted into office, that it 
was not their function to be ** lords over 
6od*s heritage," but ** ensamples to the 
flock." They indeed exercised, in the 
beginning, some practical control over the 
in^EUit churches— just as our missionaries 
do among the heathen now — ^but it i^ 
pears to have been pro tempore^ and 
ceased so soon as the churches were in 
circumstances to enter upon the normaT 
conditions of their life. They addressed 
the membership of the Church as *' breth- 
ren" and ** sisters," and when remonstra- 
ting with them for any irregularity, it was 
still with them as ** brethren." They treat- 
ed the churches as independent bodies, 
capable of, and responsible for self-gov- 
emment They reported their doings to 
them, as if amenable to them — (Acts xi : 
1-18, xiv; 26, 27, &c., &c.) In their 
Epistles they addressed the whole body of 
helieversj especially when they spoke of 
matters requiring action. Paul's Epistle 
to Philippi, begins: **Paul and Timo- 
theus, the servants of Jesus Christ, to all 
the saints in Christ Jesus which are at 
Philippi — with the bishops (pastors) and 
deacons." They recognized the right of 
the churches to send out messengers and 
evangelists. They consulted with the 
churches, and the result of the discuasion 



about circumciaon waa published in the 
name of *Hhe Apostles and elders and 
brethren." They advised the churches to 
settle their own difficulties, (1 Cor.vi: 
1-8,) never assuming to adjust them ber 
cause they were Apostles. They laid the 
whole matter of electing officers and diftf 
ciplining ofl*enders upon the churches— ^ 
functions whose ve^ nature involved in 
this action of theirs the most radical and 
convincing testimony that they believed 
the membership of the Church to be, un* 
der Christ, the ultimate residence of 
ecclesiastical power. They appear to 
have even devolved the administratkm of 
the Christian ordinances upon the pastors 
of the individual churches. Paul thanks 
Grod that he personally baptized very 
few. Peter did not, himself^ baptize Cor- 
nelius, and his companions, (Acts x : 48.) 

The Apk)stles, then, filled a peculiar, 
self-limiting and temporary office. They 
had the oversight of the planting of 
churches, and the care of them in dieir 
first immaturity. Paul speaks of himself 
as burdened — not with the bishopric of 
some particular territory, but with ** that 
which cometh upon me daily, the care of 
all the churches" The same appears to 
have been true of his brethren — all, sep- 
arately and together, wherever Christ 
might call, and however Christ might 
guide — ^laboring " for the perfecting of the 
saints, for the work of the ministry, for the 
edifying of the body of Christ" Chrysoa- 
tum says, (as cited by Campbell, Lee., p. 
77,) ** the Apostles were constituted of 
God first-men (overseers, leaders,) not of 
separate cities and nations, but all were 
entrusted with the world : " (iurly imb 
Osov xsf'QO'^oifi^diifTee ^datolot d^j^oyTS^ 
o^M Wfri »al 7i6keig d§aq>6govs Ao/i/?dy6r- 
T65, dtXhi n&vT6g xoif-j x^i' olxovfukvijr 
ifiTnatsvOhxeg.) When they died, they 
left the churches to go on in this line of 
democratic life which they evidently felt 
that Christ had prompted, and which 
they had, clearly, labored to promote. 

Placing this by the side of those deduc- 
tions from our Saviour's teachings which 



1869.] Cm(gregMmiiaMtm — fife Feal^iemmA ^vf^HMIm. 23 



we bare dreadj made, we seem to get 
Tery dear and sufficient evidence thai the 
Ckristiaa Chareh, as it went forth from 
tiie immediate impress of the Savioar and 
bb inspired followers, on its Divine mission 
of preaching the Grospel to every creatnre, 
was essentially democratic, or Congrega- 
tional, in form — recogniring no power of 
Tofing above its membership below Christ, 
still its Great Head ; its few and simple 
offices bdng offices of service and not of 
mastership; and its presiding and con- 
trolling spirit one of fraternity, simplicity 
and universal responsibility. 

As this Chnrch of churches went abroad 
on its hdy mission, it would naturally go 
in this spirit, and conform its develop- 
ments everywhere to the pattern to which 
it had been accustomed at Jerusalem. 
Gieseler (Davidson's trans., v. 1, p. 90,) 
says : " the new churches out of Palestine 
Ibrmed themselves after the pattern of the 
mother Church in Jerusalem ; " and the 
earliest and most tmstworthy authorities 
which have come down to us confirm his 
words, and indicate that the democratic 
dement continued to be characteristic of 
the Church for at least the first two hun- 
dred years. Clement of Rome, writing to 
the Church at Corinth before the close of 
the first century, describes the regulations 
established by the Apostles for the appoint- 
ment of those who were to follow them in 
instructing the people, viz : that it should 
be (ovi^evdonf^&Gijg -n^g iMxXijalagndcnjg) 
Ae whole Church approving, Tertollian, 
writing about A. D., 200, says, (Apol. c. 
89,) that the elders were chosen {testimo- 
mo) by the free suffrage of the people. 
Origen (Contr. Cel.) A. D., 240, describes 
the officers of the churches as being 
{iukBy6fUP(H) elected to their office ; and 
in another place (Hom. ad Levit) he 
fays that the people ought to be present 
when a priest is ordained, that they may 
better judge who is fit for the office — ** ut 
sciant omnes, et certe sint, quia qui prsBs- 
tantior est ex omni populo, qui doctior, 
qui saactior, qui in omni virtute ennnen- 
fim ' iPe dytmr 'ad aacerdotium, et boo 



adstante populo, ne qua pottmodum, 
retraetatio cuiquam, ne quis icmpuhia 
resideret." Cjrpriaa, A. D., 258, (Epis. 
68,) recognizes the same custom, and says 
the people have the power of choosing 
worthy priests, and of rejecting unworthy 
ones; — ^'*Plebs * * habeat potestatem 
vel eligendi dignos sacerdotes, vel indignos 
recusandi." It is matter of record that 
there were instances, even to the fourth 
century, in which the mass of the Church, 
of their own accord, and by acclamation, 
made ch<»ce of their presbyters or bish- 
ops. Eustatius at Aatioch, A. D., 310, 
was thus elected, (Theodoret Hist £ccL 
Lib. i, c. 6) ; so was Ambrose, of Milan, 
even before his baptism, A. D. 874, (Paulin, 
Vit Ambrose, Rafin. Hist EccL Lib. ii, 
c. 11) ; so Martin of Tours, A. D., 875, 
(Sulpic. Sev. Vit Blar., c 7,) ; and Chrys- 
ostum, at Constantinople, as late as A. D. 
898, (Socrat Hist Eccl. Lib. vii, c. 2). 
Up to this date, then, at least in part, the 
people retained their right of electing 
their spiritual guides. It is remarkable 
that a trace of this old Congregationalism, 
to this day, maintains and justifies itself in 
the very ritual of the Papal system, since 
the Bishop is made to say, while ordaining 
a priest, ** it was not without good reason 
that the fathers had ordained that the ad" 
vice of the people should he taken in the 
election of those persons who were to serve 
at the altar ; to the end that having given 
assent to their ordination they might &e 
more readily yield obedience to those who 
were so ordained " — (neque enim frustra 
a patribus institutum, ut de electione 
illorum qui ad regimen altaris adhibendi 
sunt, consulatur etiam populus, &c., &c., 
(Pontif. Rom. De Ordinat Pres., fol. 88.) 
Siricius, Bishop of Rome, A. D. 885-898, 
mentions election by the people as need- 
ful to the presbyter ; (Ep. 1, ad Himer., 
c. 10,) '*presbyterio vel episcopatui, si 
eum cleri ac pUbis vocaverit electio, noo 
immerito societur." 

As the fervor of the piety of the Apos- 
tolic age gradually cooled under the inva- 
sion of ambition and woridlinen, ftouft- 



24 0(mgregalmdli8m — Us Features and Superiorities. [Jab. 



ing the desire for office, and inyestiDg 
that office with secular show and power, 
this right of popular suffrage waned into 
little more than a mere empty name, and 
the assemblies became political and tu- 
multuous in their character, to an extent 
which called for rebuke and reform. The 
Council of Laodicea attempted to apply 
a corrective by excluding the rabble (toT; 
8;^Xoif ) from part in such election ; and 
in the Latin Church a class of officers 
was constituted, whose duty it was to visit 
vacant dioceses, and seek to harmonize 
confficting interests. Thus, by the desire 
of ambitious men among the clergy to 
acquire power, favored by the fact that 
their superior culture gave them, of ne- 
cessity, great influence over a compara- 
tively illiterate Church membership, the 
way was prepared for a policy which, 
when fully inaugurated, swept the order 
of the Church * clean over* from the simple 
democracy of Jerusalem and Antioch, to 
the antipodal abomination of the Papacy. 
Neighboring churches were consolidated 
into one bishopric, and aggregated bish- 
oprics grew into a vast hierarchy, which 
overcame all popular resistance, and set- 
tled itself securely for centuries at Rome, 
and gave birth there to those monstrous 
and malignant heresies of doctrine, and 
those mournful and miserable immorali- 
ties of life which, raying out gloom upon 
the general mind and heart, brought on 
the long night of ** the dark ages." 

Luther and his immediate co-workers 
in the Reformation were so engrossed by 
the consideration of the religious errors of 
Romanism, and so intent to restore the 
doctrine of justification by fsuth alone, to 
its ancient and scriptural place before the 
people, that they seem, for a time, to have 
overlooked the fact that the organic con- 
stitution of the Church had been changed 
from its original simplicity quite as much 
as the great doctrines of fiskith ; with the 
related fact that those very errors of doc- 
trine had come in through the door opened 
for them by those organic modifications. 
Nor can we finget that the fint Befimn- 



ers were so dependent upon the coopera- 
tion and protection of the secular arm of 
kings, princes and nobles, who would 
have frowned upon any attempt to intro- 
duce radical reform into the outward 
structure of the existing Church, that they 
may readily have felt that if sCny effort in 
that direction were desirable, the time 
had not yet come when it could be wisely 
attempted. It was only when further ex- 
perience had taught the truly pious that 
a hierarchy with the doctrine of justifica- 
tion by fisdth could be just as tyrannical 
as a hierarchy without it, and that any 
comfortable and equitable enjoyment of 
the individual right of thought and action 
was beyond hope so long as the modtu 
operandi of the Church remained as it 
was ; that the philosophy of the connection 
between the outward form and the in- 
ward life of religion began to be reasoned 
out, and men, reading their Bibles anew 
with this point specially in mind, at length 
made the startiing discovery that the gen- 
uine Church of the New Testament — that 
pure and simple democracy which Christ 
gathered about himself, and which the 
Apostles nurtured, and which was be- 
queathed to the future as the instrument 
of its regeneration, no longer had visible 
existence among men. 

This discovery was most fully made by 
the English Puritans. Attempting to or- 
ganize their own religious life in accord- 
ance with it, at Scrooby and elsewhere, 
the English hierarchy drave them out 
with violence. They cast about for a 
country where they might reproduce the 
Apostolic model, and make the attempt 
to bring men back to its understanding 
and imitation. Before our fathers landed 
on the rock of Plymouth they were band- 
ed together into a Congregational Church, 
on the principles which have given ao 
much of vitality and victory to the Con- 
gregationalism of our land. This is its 
great fundamental principle, viz : 

The Bible — interpreted by sanctified 
common sense^ with all wise helps from his- 
tory,/rom nature^from all knowledge^ and 



1859.] (hngregaUonoMsm — Us Features and SuperwriUes. 25 



especially from the revealing Spirit — is the 
anlify and sufficient, and authoritative guide 
in all matters of Christian practice, as it is 
in all matters of Christian faith : so that 
tohat the Bible teaches — by precept, exam- 
ple^ or legitimate inference — is imperative 
upon all men, at all times ; while nothing 
which it does not so teach, can be impera- 
iive upon any man cU any time. 

Oat of this fundamental principle, ap- 
plied to the Bible, grow the following 
subordinate principles, viz : — 

Anj company of Christian people asso- 
ciated hy voluntary compact, for Christ- 
ian work and worship, is a self-complete 
and independent Church of Christ 

Such a Church should, ordinarily, con- 
nst only of those who can conveniently 
worship, and labor with, and watch over, 
each other. 

Every member of every such Church 
has equal essential rights and powers 
with every other member, and the mem- 
bership together, by vote of the majority, 
(though, so far as possible, there should be 
no minority in Congregationalism,) have 
the right to choose their own officers, dis- 
cipline their own members, and transact 
all other appropriate business, independ- 
ently of any control except that of Christ, 
their Head. 

Though every such Church is thus equal 
in essential rights and powers with every 
other, and independent of all external 
earthly ecclesiastical control, yet, when 
difficulties arise, or especially important 
matters claim decision, it is competent 
and dearable that such churches should, 
in a fraternal manner, advise each other 
— assembling by delegation in Council 
for that purpose — such advice being, how- 
erer, tendered only as one friend coun- 
aels another, subject in all cases to the 
final decision of the party asking for it 

The officers which Christ has designated 
for his churches are of two kinds, the first, 
indiscriminately called, in the New Tes- 
tament, Presbyters, Bishops, rulers or pre- 
liders. Elders or Overseers^ — called by us 

• — ■ — ^M^MB ■ . ■■ I .1 !■ ■■ ■ — ■! ■ ■ ■ ■ I- ■ ™ I m 

1 The fact of the equality and identity of Biihope, 
4 



Pastors ; who preach the word and have 
the general oversight of the spiritual con- 
cerns of the Church; the second. Dea- 
cons, who attend to the relief of the poor, 
and the secular affairs of the organization, 

Preibyten, and Eldcn, is established by the follow- 
ing Scripture testimony : 

(1.) The na$neM are applied indiscriminately to 
the same persons. Paul called tocether the Etders 
(irpeaPvTipovi — * presbyters ',) of the Church of 
Sphesus (Acts zz : 17,) and when they were come to 
Miletus, he said to them, {v. 28,) ** take heed there- 
fore unto yonraelTes, and to all the flook, OTer which 
the Holy Ohoet hath made you oreneers." {iiri<TK6- 
rovi — * bishops.^) So (ntui i :) he says, he left 
Titiy in Crete to ** ordain elders in erery city," and 
then deeorlbes the qnalitiss to be sought in them, 
one of which is {v. 7,) "a bishop {UloKonov) must 
be blameless," &o. So (1 Peter, t : 2. 8,) he exhorts 
the eiders to " feed the flock of Qod, taking the over- 
sight ( irtoKoirovvni )— ^ aettng the MsAop,') OTer them, 
not by constraint," &o. 

(2.) Elders or Presbyters, or Bishops, are re- 
quired to haTe the same qualifia^ions. See 1 Timt 
iii : 2-7, and Titus i : 6-10, where the same requisi* 
tions, in the same terms, are made of each. 

(3.) The same duties were assigned to them. See 
Heb. xiii : 7, 17, 1 These, r : 12, 1 Tim. t : 17, AcU 
zx : 28, &c., &c. 

This testimony of Scripture is oonflrmed by the 
earliest History. Clement, writing about A. D.f 96, 
says, (Epis. Ad. Cor., sec. 42, p. 67,) *' the Apostles, 
preaching in countries and cities, appointed the first 
fruits of their labors to be bishops and deacons^ hav- 
ing proved them by the Spirit." Polyearp, A. D , 
140, (Ep. c. 6, 6,) gives an account of the qualifica- 
tions necessary for presbyters or elders, and deacons, 
but says nothing about any bishops. Justin (died 
A. D., 166,) specifies two orders of Church officers, 
and only two, as existing in the Church, vis : pT«- 
sidiog officers, or presbyters, or elders, and deacons, 
(Apol. 1, c. 67.) Jerome (died A. D., 426,) affirms 
the early identity of bishops and elders— citing Phil, 
i : i. Acta XX : 17, 28, Titus i : 6, 1 Tim. iv : 14, and 1 
Peter, v : 1— and distinctly declares that in later years 
one was elected to preside over the others, and gives 
the reason for it: (quod autem postea unus eleotus 
est qui ceteris prseponeretur, in sehimnatis remedium 
factum est, ne unusquisque ad se trahens Christi 
Ecclesiam rumperet.— fp. <id Evag.y Ed. Basle, 
1687, torn. 2, p. 829.) When the name ' bishop ' first 
came into ecelesiastioal use, it waa strictly as a syn- 
onyme for * presbyter,' or * presider,' or * pastor,* 
and not at all in its present sense. Even the Coun- 
cils of Sardica, and of Laodica, in the fourth century, 
denounced the custom of ordaining * bishops ' in 
small villages, lest it should bring the office into con- 
tempt. The doctrine of the diviae right of Bishops 
was never heard of until lees than 800 years ago, 
wheu Dr. Bancroft preached a sermon (Jan. 12, 
16b8,) which broached that doctrine, and caused a 
great sensation throughout England. (Vide Hither- 
ton, pp. 49, 60 ) 



26 ChngregatitmaHsnir^a Features and Superimties. [ Jak 

and aid the Pastor, generally, in his toil, ed local churches, bat that * the Church ' is 



as they have ability and opportunity. 

If we were to compress these five prin- 
ciples into their most compact form, we 
might say that the three great practical, 
working ideas of the C!ongregationali8m of 
the New Testament are these : 

(1.) That all local churches are asso- 
ciations of believers ; independent, equal, 
fraternal, self-complete and self-governed. 

(2.) That all ecclesiastical power re- 
sides in the individual membership of such 
local churches. 

(3.), That Christ ordained but two 
grades of Church officers, and they to be 
servants, and not masters of His Church. 

In order to throw out these principles 
into greater distinctness, let us compare 
them — as briefly as possible — in their 
order, with the seminal principles of other 
ecclesiastical bodies. 

(1.) All local churches are associa- 
tions of believers; independent, equal, 
fratemaU self-complete and self-governed. 

With this principle the Papal Church 
joins issue, affirming that there is no such 
thing as a local Church of Christ, and no 
such thing as any Church self-governed, 
but that * the Church ' of Christ is a vast 
assemblage of men in all lands who are 
willing to partake of the sacraments ; con- 
solidated under the Divinely organized 
hierarchy, of one Pope, seventy Cardinals, 
and an indefinite number of Archbishops, 
Bishops, Archdeacons, Deans, Priests, 
Deacons, Sub-deacons, and other officers. 

With this principle the Greek and other 
Patriarchal churches, and the Lutheran, 
English, and Protestant Episcopal church- 
es join issue ; affirming that there is no 
such thing as a local Church, self-complete 
and self-governed, but that * the Church ' 
is an aggregation of men, baptized and 
taking the sacraments together; under the 
government of hierarchies variously ar- 
ranged and officered, and worshipping 
with various rites and ceremonies. 

With this principle the Methodist Epis- 
copal Church joins issue, affirming that 
there are no self-complete and self-govem- 



a wide organization of men who ^ desire to 
flee from the wrath to come, and to be 
saved from their nns,'' (Doctrines and 
Discipline of Meth. Epis. Ch., ch. 2, sec 
1. 4.); who are amenable to a govern- 
ment and discipline in part self-moved, 
and in part controlled by their Preach- 
ers; Quarterly, Annual, and Greneral 
Conferences ; and Bishops* 

With this principle the Presbyterian 
Church joins issue, affirming that there 
are local churches — and these composed 
only of those who give credible evidence 
of piety — ^but neither self-complete nor 
self-governed, but affiliated, for govern- 
ment and discipline, into Presbyteries, 
these into Synods, and these into the 
General Assembly — the highest and last 
tribunal. 

(2.) Examine, now, our second dis- 
tinctive feature — that all ecclesiastical 
power resides in the individual member- 
ship of the local Church — and see how it 
works in contrast with other systems. 

Test it in regard to the election of a 
Pastor. A Congregational Church freely 
invites whomsoever it pleases to preach 
the Word in its pulpit, and administer its 
ordinances, and makes such arrangements 
with him in regard to the matter as it 
thinks will be agreeable to Christ, its 
great invisible, yet actual. Head. But the 
local parishes of the Papal, Patriarchal, 
Lutheran, English, and Methodist Episco- 
pal Churches have no such liberty or 
power, and no semblance nor shadow of 
it. They must take the person whom the 
Bishop or other constituted authority may 
send — like him or dislike him as they 
may. The Protestant Episcopalian, and 
Presbyterian hierarchies allow their local 
bodies more seeming freedom in the mat- 
ter. A^ Episcopalian Parish ncnninates a 
candidate for its Rectorship to its Bishop ; 
who, however, may confirm or reject the 
nomination at pleasure. So a Presbyte- 
rian Church — under direction of its Ses- 
sion of Elders, by Commissioners — ^prac- 
tically nominates its candidate for Pastor 



1859.] Congregationd&sm — Us Features and 8uperimties. 27 



to tke Presbyteiy, under whose immediate 
care the candidate ma^ happen to be, who 
^ present the caU,** or not, as they please, 
to an unordidned man ; and who '^ upon the 
whole view of the case, either continue 
him in his former charge, (if ordained,) 
or translate him, as they deem to be most 
lor the peace and edification of the 
Church." (Form of Gov., Boo^ 1, chaps, 
xv. and xtL) 

Compare it in regard to the admission 
of members. When a person desires to 
gain admission to a Congregational Church, 
he must present the evidence of his Chris- 
tian character to its membership— either, 
as is usual in small churches, directly, or as 
is frequently the case in larger ones, indi- 
rectly, through the intervention of an " Ex- 
amining Committee," appcunted for that 
purpose — and then the entire membership 
admit or reject his application, by vote, as 
&eir judgment and conscience decide will 
be most agreeable to Christ, their Head. 
On the other hand, the Episcopal churches 
admit members by act of the Bishop, on 
the certificate of the Bector, that they 
have been baptized, have come to years 
of discretion, can say the Catechism, the 
Creed, the Lord's Prayer and the Ten 
Commandments, and that he thinka them 
fit to be presented for confirmation. 
The Methodist Church admits candidates 
(Book, Part 1, chap. 2, sec. 2,) — when 
recommended by a class leader, (with 
whom they have been at least six months 
on trial,) and baptized, and examined — by 
the act of the Elder in charge of the Cir- 
cuit The Presbyterian Church admits 
candidates by vote of its ^Church Ses- 
sion," composed of the Pastor and Ruling 
Elders. In all these cases, the member- 
ship themselves have no direct voice in 
the increase of their number. 

Test it also in regard to the method of 
dealing with offences. If a member of a 
Congregational Church — ^be he officer or 
private member — ^is suspected or known 
to be guilty of practices contrary to the 
Gospel, the directions of our Saviour, in 
the 18th of Matthew, are literally followed. 



He is *' labored with" ; first alone, then, 
if needful, in the presence of two or three 
witnesses ; if he remain incorrigible, the 
matter is told to the Church, who labor 
with him, and if they cannot '* gain their 
brother," they suspend him from all privi- 
leges of communicm, to give time for re- 
flection and repentance, and, if he prove 
incorrigible, they cut him off by a vote of 
the membership, that he may be to them 
^ as a heathen man and a publican." If 
he feels that he has been misunderstood, 
or hardly used by them, he asks them to 
call, with him, a Council of sister churches 
to review the matter, and give its ad- 
vice. If they decline to unite with him 
for that purpose, he can call such a Coun- 
cil, by himself, which Council examining 
the case, would advise the Church either 
to adhere to, or suitably to modify their 
former decision. And then the Church 
follow that advice or not, as they think 
would most please Christ That is the 
beginning, middle and end of our disci- 
pline — in our judgment, just what the 
New Testament, interpreted by common 
sense, ordains. 

In all other churches, on the contrary, 
we find that the trial of offences is re- 
moved from the people into the hands of 
the hierarchy; and, if a disagreement oc- 
curs, the case passes on and up, until in 
the course, perhaps of years, it reaches 
final decision at the hands of the highest 
authority — Pope, Patriarch, King, Gen- 
eral Convention, Assembly, or Conference, 
as the case may be. The Methodist Epis- 
copal method comes nearest to our own, 
for it ordains that discipline shall be con- 
ducted by the local preacher before the lo- 
cal Society, or a select number of them, 
at his pleasure ; if found guilty by vote of a 
majority of that select number, the offend- 
er to be expelled by the preacher having 
charge of the circuit, appeal being allowed 
— ^both to the offender and the preacher — 
to the next Quarterly Conference. (Book 
of Dis., Part 1, chap, x., sec. 4.) It is 
clear that, in this matter, Congregational- 
ism and all other systems are wide asun- 



28 CongregationaUsm — its Features mid Superiorities. [Jan. 



der. We give all power into the hands 
of the laity ; holdirig all Church officers 
as their servants — ^in teaching and guid- 
ing — they, in a greater or less degree'", 
according to their varying methods, take 
all power away from the laity — holding 
their Church officers as masters over 
them. 

Consider, once more, the most impor- 
tant matter of doctrine. Each local Con- 
gregational Church, by vote of its mem- 
bership, (usually with conferenee with 
other churches in Council,) settles its own 
articles of faith, under a deep sense of its 
accountability to God, and the Bible, 
and Christ Each member shares that 
responsibility. All these other churches 
are bound by formulas imposed upon 
them from without, and are compelled to 
go to their Prayer Book, or Book of Dis- 
cipline, as well as to the Bible, to settle 
what is Orthodox, and right for them to 
hold as their Christian faith. 

(3.) Let us glance, in passing, at our 
third distinctive feature ; the belief that 
Christ ordained but two grades of Church 
officers, and they to be servants, and not 
masters of the Church. Each Congrega- 
tional Church elects its Pastor, Deacons, 
and Committees of various sorts, which it 
may need, by majority vote — always en- 
deavoring, so far as possible, to make that 
majority include the whole Church. It 
has the power to remove them when it 
pleases. It holds them continually ac- 
countable to itself for their proper per- 
formance of such functions as Christ has 
assigned to them. They are accountable 
to nobody else, but Christ However 
Councils invited for the purpose, or min- 
isterial Associations, may interpose advice, 
it is only advice, and all final decision 
rests, with its sole responsibility, upon the 
individual members of each local Church. 
Each Pastor may devise, expound and 
urge as many plans for doing good, or get- 
ting good, as he may desire — it is left with 
the membership to say whether they shall 
be adopted ; if adopted, to carry them out 
All ia simple, Scriptural, inexpensive. 



modest, practical, — effective in calling oat 
the working power of the Church. 

On the other hand, the hierarchal 
churches array before us their Popes and 
Cardinals, their Archbishops, Bishops, 
Archdeacons, Deacons, Priests, Elders, 
and we know not how many others — 
wheels within wheels, more or less intri- 
cate, all rolling over the neck of the laity — 
* lording it over God's heritage,* rather 
than being simple * ensamples ' and * shep- 
herds * to the flock. 

But enough has been said in exposition 
of the distinctive features of the system 
under discussion. We pass to the proof of 
the proposition : 

2. That this Congregational system^ in 
what it w, and what it is ^fitted to dOy is 
essentially superior to any other form of 
Church Government. 

We say in what it is, and is fitted to he. 
We speak of its natural tendencies and 
legitimate influences, when it has an op- 
portunity to do its perfect work. It may 
never yet have done itself full justice, and 
other forms of Church Government may 
sometimes seem to have had preeminence 
over it in usefulness. But the question is, 
taking the ages through, what system is 
best adapted to the nature of man ; to train 
and develope him heavenwards, as he is, 
in general, and under all circumstances ? 
We urge, in this view, on behalf of Con- 
gregationalism, the claim to special preem- 
inence. 

(1.) It is more practicable in its work- 
ing, than any other system. Wherever 
any company of persons may be, who are 
faithful believers in the Grospel, and who 
desire to serve Christ in aud through a 
Church organization, they may do so in a 
Congregational form, without any per- 
plexity or delay. They do not need to 
geographize and journey to discover some 
well authenticated aqueduct, bringing the 
stream of Ecclesiastical life down from the 
hoary past, to which they must attach 
themselves or else be dry ; they may dig 
down anywhere in the sand, with the cer- 
tainty of finding living water. Suppose 



1859.] C(mgreg(dioifiaiism — its Features and Superiorities. 29 



they are away in Weatem wilds; hun- 
dreds of miles from any Church, of any 
name ; with communication almost inter- 
dicted by the distance and peril of the 
way. If they are to become Papal, Pa- 
triarchal, Lutheran, Episcopalian, Metho- 
dist, or Presbyterian in their spirit and 
form of Church organization, they must 
wait and work until they can put them- 
selves into communication with the rest of 
the world, so as to get hold of the arm of 
the particular hierarchy which they pre- 
fer, and procure its extension to their re- 
mote locality, with all conditions and 
ceremonies, for such cases made and pro- 
Tided. All this involves delay, trouble, 
expense; often disappointment and dis- 
persion. Moreover, in its very nature, 
this necessity of going so far for, and 
making so much of, mere forms, must 
tend to magnify forms unduly, and turn 
their thoughts away from the simplicity of 
Christ 

But if they wish to become a Congre- 
gational Church, they can become such, 
there by tnemselves, in a single hour — 
by solemn vote affiliating for that pur- 
pose, and adopting our simple creed— just 
as Bradford, and Brewster, and Morton, 
and Jessop, and Jackson, and Rochester, 
and their associates, hunted by the hounds 
of the Establishment, took refuge in 
Scrooby, in the North of England, and 
there, in the very manor-house of the 
Archbishop of York, in 1606, formed — 
without any external help — that Church 
which, going first to Holland, colonized 
afterward on the rock of Plymouth. Such 
a Church— on our principles — is just as 
perfect in its order, as it could be if all the 
other churches in the world had helped to 
make it It is just as near to Christ He 
is just as truly its Head, and it is just as 
truly the channel of his power and grace, 
as the grandest Metropolitan Church can 
be. And there, in its outward feebleness, 
in that solitude, its voice is just as impera- 
tive as that of the oldest and numerically 
strongest body of congenial faith on earth ; 
because Christ says, that * where two or 



three are,' there he will be, and because 
the comforting and controlling Spirit can 
dwell in a little Church just as well as in 
a large one. 

If Providence so order, it can elect one 
of its own more gified members to be its 
Pastor, as it will others to be its Deacons ; 
and there it stands — home-made and yet 
well made — as true a Church, with as 
genuine a ministry, as the Great Head 
anywhere surveys. There it can go on 
from strength to strength, burdened with 
no extraneous connections or responsi- 
bilities ; going to the Bible with humble 
prayer, and not to General Conference, 
Convention, or Assembly, to find out what 
shall be its creed ; who shall break to it 
the bread of life ; what shall be the order 
of its worship in God*s house ; what the 
disposal of its differences, should any un- 
happily arise. For a system to fit the 
world and all time, we claim that this 
universal practicability of Congregation- 
alism gives it -practical preeminence over 
other systems, especially when we re- 
member that a great part of the work of 
the Church is to be missionary work — 
here and there, in distant and solitary 
places. 

(2.) We may hint, in passing, as a second 
inherent superiority of Congregationalism, 
its kindly aspect toward, and especial 
affiliation for, a Republican form of civil 
Grovemment We believe such a form of 
government is the best ; and, with the 
gradual advance of general intelligence, 
will be seen to be the best, for all men. 
But whether this be so or not, it is our 
form of Government, and our national 
prosperity and happiness are so bound up 
with it, as to make it of no small conse- 
quence that our prevalent religious faith 
should work kindly with it, and promote 
it Now Congregationalism was, histori- 
cally, the mother of our civil liberties. It 
was so first at Plyipouth, and in the Mas- 
sachusetts Colony.i It was so, later, in 

1 Bancroft says, speaking of the compact executed 
Not. 11, 1620, " Thii iDStrument was aigned by the 
whole body of men, forty-one in numberi who, with 



30 C<mgregationaikm — Ua Features and Superioriiies. . [Jan. 



the days of the Bevoludon.^ And it 
would seem a natural inference that the 
same polity which gave us a Republic 
would be most favorable, in all its workings, 
for the permanent welfare of the State. 

And if we look into the structure of the 
Bystem, we shall see that being itself a 

their ftmiUcfl, constituted the one hundred and one, 
the whole colony, * the proper democracy/ that ar- 
rived in New England. Thii was the birth of pop- 
ular constitutional liberty. * * In tha cabin of 
the Mayflower humanity renewed its rights, and in- 
stituted goTemment on the basis of ' e<iual laws ' for 
< the general gOTemment.'— Hist. U. S., Vol. 1, p. 810. 

So he adds, ** For more than eighteen years, 
* Uie whole body of the male intiabitants ' constituted 
tint legislature; the State was goTemed like our 
towns "—he might hare added, * like the churches 
whose principles, expounded by John Robinson, had 
led to the adoption of this method of cItU gorern- 
ment '— " as a strict democracy."— Hist. U. 8., ToL 
l,p. 822. 

The historical truth on this subject has been Tery 
happUy stated by a late able writer, who says, ** There 
is a connection between the Church Polity of the 
Pilgrim Fathers and the oiril polity which they 
adopted, and also between their civil polity and that 
which the nation subsequentiy accepted, which has 
not been suffldentiy traced and pondered. The 
purely democratic form of Qovemment in the Church 
at Leyden, already entrenched in the warm affections 
of the Pilgrims, led to the adoption of a correspond- 
ing form of cItU goTemment on board the Mayflower 
Ibr the Colony at Plymouth. It has been said, and 
it is true, that it was a Congregational Church meet- 
ing that first suggested the Idea of a New England 
town-meeting! and a New England town-meeting 
embodies all the germinal principles of our State and 
national government." — Wellman's Church Polity 
tf the Pilgrims, pp. 68, 68. 

It was the opinion of Mr. Pitt, that if the Church 
of England had been eflloientiy astablislied In the 
North American Colonies, they would never have 
reftised aUegianoe to the British crown.— Park*s Ad- 
dress before Am. Gong. Un., Jan. 1864, p. 18. 

1 Jefferson is said to liave lived near a Church 
(Baptist,) Congregationally governed, in Virginia, 
and to have remarked concerning its form of govern- 
ment, that * it was the only form of pure democracy 
then existing, and in his opinion, it would be the 
best plan of Government for the Colonies.'— Encyo. 
Belig. Enowl., art. " Congregationalism." 

John Wise*s fkmous ** Vindication of the Govern - 
mentof the Churches of New Rigland," was twioe 
re-printed a short time before the Bevolutionary 
war, and its list of subscrilwrs shows ttiat it reached, 
or vras called for, by a large number of men then 
prominent in dvil lift. This contains (pp. 22-48, Ed. 
of 1772,) a thorough discussion of forms of govern- 
ment, and an earnest plea for a democracy in the 
State, in connection with its consideration of demoo- 
ney in the Ohnzeh. 



democracy, and training all its members 
to individual responsibility and labor — 
under the purest and highest preMure of 
motive — ^its natural tendencies and in- 
fluence will be as much better than those 
of others for the Republic, in this respect, 
as the training of a merchant ship is better 
than that of a cotton-mill, to make men ser- 
viceable sailors on board of a man-of-war. 
(3.) Entirely kindred to this, may be 
urged the consideration that Congrega- 
tionalism has superiority over other 8y»- 
tems of Church government in doing more 
to promote general intelligence in the 
community. Its first principles throw it 
upon the sympathy and respect of the 
masses, and claim for it their love and sup- 
port; and in gaining their love and sup- 
port it works them into its service ; and 
its service is a service of thought, and 
responsibility. The Church, Congrega- 
tionally administered, calls upon every one 
of its members, even the humblest, to take 
a part with every other, in deciding its 
great questions of faith and duty. It ac- 
customs, therefore, all its members to 
think, and compare, and choose, and act, 
under the most inspiring and impressive 
sanctions. The humblest member of a 
Congregational Church may, at any time, 
be called upon to discuss — and perhaps, 
by his individual vote, to settle — a ques- 
tion, in its temporal and eternal reachings 
and interests, infinitely graver than any 
on which our Senators and Representa- 
tives vote at Washington. No member 
can be received, none dismissed, none dis- 
ciplined, without the question being put 
to each of the fraternity : *• Is this right — 
will it please the Great Head?* Thus 
the habit of acting under responsibility, 
and with intelligence, is nurtured in the 
community, and the general mind is quick- 
ened, and independent thought and action 
promoted. £ach man is treated as if he 
were a many full grown, and as if Christ 
had a work for him to do ; and as if all 
his choices and labors were of everlasting 
account, and ho must, therefore, subsidize 
his whole mind to the service. That in- 



1859.] C(mgreg(dwnaXi»m — «te Features and Superiorities. 81 



tellectual labor which is done for the memr 
bership of the hierarchal churches by 
their constituted officials, in the way of 
settling great principles of doctrine and 
great questions of policy, Congregational- 
ism compels her membership to do for 
themselves ; and so, since the j have thus 
to perform the work of Kings and Bishops 
and Priests, she makes them to become 
** a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a pecu- 
liar people, that they [individually] should 
diew forth the praises of him who hath 
called them out of nature's darkness into 
his marvellous light," — ^which is just what 
Peter said Christians ought to be. 

(4.) In sympathy with this, we may 
mention as a fourth advantage of Congre- 
gationalism, that it developes, as no other 
system is calculated, naturally, to do, the 
sense of individual responsibility in pri- 
vate Christians. 

Christ left the command to his followers 
to disciple all nations, and preach the gos- 
pel to every creature. That command 
was addressed to those who loved him, as 
individuals. And the only reason which 
can be given why it has not been obeyed ; 
why the earth is not now the Lord's, and 
the fulness thereof; is that enough Chris- 
tians have not yet felt their individual re- 
iponsibUity to that command, and obeyed 
^9 ^ gi^g their prayers, their alms, and 
themselves, to missionary labor. No man 
will dare to say — since Christ has been 
eighteen centuries waiting to see of the 
travail of his soul, and help the work — 
that there has not yet been money enough, 
and knowledge enough, and everything 
enough in the world to have converted 
the whole of it long ago ; provided individ- 
ual Christians enough had left money- 
getting, and politics, and all sorts of secu- 
larities, and devoted themselves, with all 
their hearts, to this preaching the gospel 
to erery creature. The great demand of 
Christianity, it is confessed on all hands, 
now is, to arouse and deepen and quicken 
that feeling in every Christian heart, 
which sap ; ' Christ died for m€, and I 
most do something for him. That great 



command binds me. Lord, what wilt thou 
have 7n« to do?' 

But when we denre to awaken a sense 
of personal responsibility in our children, 
we make them* do responsible things. 
Give a child a sum of money, and require 
him to expend it according to his best 
judgment for the poor ; or let him make 
such purchases as he thinks wisejt for the 
family — and you begin, at once, to devel- 
ope the feeling of personal responsibility. 
He is * somebody,' and he is always more 
man-like thereafter. Trust him to go a 
journey, and carry a message of conse- 
quence, and no wealth of words, no abun- 
dance of books on journeying, will do half 
so much to tndn him, in that direction, as 
this trusting him to do it. This is common 
sense in everything to which it applies. 
And Congregationalism, by trusting eveiy- 
thing to her private members, trains them 
to a sense of individual responability, 
which must be unknown to the subjects 
of an Ecclesiastical hierarchy. Every 
member of a Congregational Church has 
as real a responsibility as any Cardinal 
who sat in the Council of Trent, for his 
vote says yea or nay to every doctrine 
which that Council had under discussion. 
Does the Church languish, our member- 
ship cannot turn to each other and say, 
* I wish our Bishops, or our General As- 
sembly, would see what is the matter, and 
tell us what is to be done.' Each one is 
compelled to sit down for himself to de- 
vise what is to be done, feeling that no 
mitre, nor surplice, nor convocation comes 
between him and blame, if things go 
wrong. Congregationalism places its 
members, in regard to all Ecclesiastical 
responsibility, precisely where they are in 
the matter of their personal salvation. 
To know what to do to be saved, they go 
to no Bishop, and to no Body, and to no 
book, but the Bible; and bringing the 
naked truth of revelation to bear upon 
their necessity, they get an answer to 
their question. So to know what to do in 
the Church — what is Orthodox, what is 
orderly — ^they go, as before, to no manual, 



32 CmgregationaUsm — Us Features and JSuperiarUies. [Jan. 



and to no man, but to the same Bible — and 
bringing, as before, its truth to bear upon 
their duty, they decide and do. All this 
is simple, self-consistent, successfuL 

(5.) Another advantage which Congre- 
gationalism has over all other systems, is 
that it throws its membership more imme- 
diately and directly than any other upon 
God, and Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and 
the Bibl£, for the answer to all their ques- 
tions, and the supply of all their need. 

Nothing comes between the Congrega- 
tionalist and these original and celestial 
sources of light and love. No question of 
doctrine or practice can be put to him 
which he may not, and must not, naturally, 
take to them for answer. We, of course, 
would be far from intimating that good 
men of other systems do not ask God for 
wisdom, and open the Bible for light, but 
we do say that their systems not only do 
not so much favor this, but do not even 
permit them to do it alone. They have 
always a double question ; ' is this in ac- 
cordance with the Book of Discipline — 
with the established order of our Church ? ' 
as well as ;< is it right in the sight of God ? ' 

Now, to any man who remembers how 
strong is the tendency of poor human 
nature toward that which is material and 
visible, instead of that which is unseen 
and eternal, it will be clear that any sys" 
tern which propounds such double ques- 
tions, will be apt to get its best answers to 
its easiest inquiries, and that its tendency 
fnll be very strong to incline the mind to 
rest in the lower authority as prima facie 
in accordance with the higher. It takes 
more faith to get an answer from God 
than it does from a hierarchy, and there- 
fore, when hierarchies are accessible to 
answer questions, and assume the respon- 
sibility, faith grows dulL Congregation- 
alism has no ritual, no ceremonies, no 
book of discipline — nothing but the Bible 
in the hand, the Spirit in the heart, and 
Christ overhead. That is all. Its prayers, 
its songs, its sermons, all get their vitality 
from the Bible, as the seed out of which 
they grow ; from the Holy Spirit, as the 



influence that makes them grow; finom 
the Saviour, as the Good Master, under 
whose eye and to please whose heart, and 
promote whose cause, all is done. Its 
methods of operation, also, all throw it di- 
rectly upon the naked truth, with nothing 
between it and the souL If a Pastor is 
to be chosen or removed ; if a member is 
to be admitted or disciplined ; whatever is 
to be done aflecting — in any way — ^the 
interests of the Church or the general 
cause, — no Bishop settles it ; no oi^ganism 
takes it up and says how it shall be; 
putting themselves and their opinion 
between the Church and the truth — no 
Book of Discipline, or Chapter of Canons 
interposes the fossil judgment of the dead ; 
but each Church member is called upon 
(before God, and in the love of Christ, 
and out of the Bible, as interpreted to him 
by the Holy Ghost,) to say how it shall 
be. All this magnifies the truth and 
makes it honorable. It forms the habit of 
reliance upon the Bible in all things — ^the 
custom of submitting every concern of life 
to the same truth for decision. * It makes 
independent thinkers, who are apt to be 
the most eflicient laborers. It is agreed 
that the Bible theory of the most perfect 
Christian life Is of one united to Christ, 
< as the branch is to the vine ; ' living in 
him ; going directly to him with all per- 
plexities, and getting from him a resolution 
of all doubts. Now we maintain that our 
system falls in with this theory of life, and 
works directly toward its realization 
throughout the length and breadth of the 
Church, training its membership to do 
that very thing — to lean upon God, with- 
out any hierarchal inventions, which are 
interventions — putting nothing between 
the visible Church and its invisible Head, 
and distracting the mind with no side 
issues, confusing it with no jar and din 
of machinery. As in the old-fashioned 
saw-mills, where one shaf^ went directly 
fh)m the crank on the end of the water- 
wheel to the saw — so here, the motive 
power is geared directly to the work - that 
is to be done. There is the least possible 



1859.] Oimgregatimuidism — Us Features and SuperioritieB. 33 



fiictioB, and if anything is out of oi^er 
'^ere is bat one place to be visited to dis- 
cover what it is. Whereas these great, 
affiliated hierarchies are like huge cotton- 
mills, where thousands of looms and tens 
of thousands of spindles are belted together 
— ^there is story piled on story ; there is 
-cooftision and clatter, and enormous fric- 
tion, and, when something breaks, there 
are hundieds of places to be visited to see 
what it is that needs repair. We do not 
daim that every, or even any, Congrega- 
tional Church is, — few things are what 
they might .be— but we do claim that any 
and every one ought to be, and could 
natarally be, such a nursery of the high- 
est, purest, clearest, holiest, most blessed 
and beneficent communion with God, and 
walk with hiin, as the earth can see no- 
where else, and as heaven would look 
i^n with strange joy. 

(6.) Agsdn, we urge that Congregation- 
alism has advantage over all other systems, 
as being a more efficient barrier against 
heresy and false doctrine. 

We are aware that it is common to ob- 
ject to our Church order, especially, on 
this ground. It is not to be denied that, 
fifty years ago, quite a number of Congre- 
gational churches in this region, became 
Unitarian in belief. But we insist that 
whoever examines the subject, historically, 
with candid research, will find that those 
churches became tainted with heresy by 
first departing from fundamental Congre- 
gationaUsm^ in the admission of those who 
were not believers to their communion. 
A strict adherence to the cardinal prin- 
ciple, thus violated, would have done 
much toward saving that entire defection. 
The presence of great varieties of doc- 
trine in other churches, having the very 
best hierarchal safeguards against heresy, 
is proof that other systems are at least no 
better than our own, in this respect No 
man can even guess, to-day — with all the 
canonical severity which guards the Eng- 
lish Church from the invasion of opinions 
not iU' its creed — how many of its clergy 
are, on the one hand, rank RationalistB, 

5 



or, on the other, ranker Romanists. But 
all well informed persons will concede 
that the number of both classes cannot be 
small. Our superior safeguard agsunst 
heresy, is in ^e fact that we lodge the 
power of judging in the great mass of 
believers, who— with the Bible ever open 
before them, as their chief source of light 
— are much less liable to be tainted by 
error, than are the few educated, and pow- 
erful, whose position as chief members of a 
hierarchal system, lays open their minds to 
all manner of ambitious and time-serving 
motives, tending to swerve their judgment 
fix>m the simplicity of the Gospel. The 
-early times will testify that, so long as the 
Apostolic churches maintained the simple 
order which Christ left among them, the 
purity of the faith was maintained, and 
that purity of doctrine was afterward cor- 
rupted in exact proportion as the Church 
departed from that primitiye simplicity, 
and grew into the Papacy. 

And, in the nature of things, we find 
superior security in our system. If a 
Church member becomes a heretic, the 
others deal with him and cast him out If 
a Pastor becomes a heretic, the Church 
terminates his relation, and that very fact 
will warn other churches against him. 
Each Church being self-complete, there 
is very little danger of evil spreading from 
one to another. So far as other churches 
are concerned, it afiects them only as 
another is added to |he many bad exam- 
ples that already exist around — ^to stand 
for warning before them. Whereas, in 
an affiliated hierarchy, so many steps are 
to be taken, and so many trials had ; there 
is so much inter-dependence and so many 
chances for contagion to spread, that the 
case becomes as much more difficult to 
manage than it is among us, as scarlatina 
in a crowded school, is worse than in an 
isolated dwelHng. 

(7.) We claim that Congregationalism 
has an advantage over other systems, in 
the nature of its wifiuence upon its min- 
istry. 

It divorces them at once from all official 



34 CongregaM(maUBm — its Features and Superiorities. [Jan. 



pride. The distinguishing idea of their 
office is that thej are servants and not 
masters of the Church. Thej owe their 
pastorship to the will of Christ, but as ex- 
pressed by the vote of the membership of 
the Church ; they are liable, at any mo- 
ment, to owe their removal from it, to the 
same cause. They can have, from the 
nature of the case, little or no factitious 
influence. If they deserve to be honored 
and loved, they usually will be loved and 
honored. If not, their official position 
furnishes them no shield. They stand, 
and must stand, upon their actual merits. 
If they show themselves approved unto 
God, workmen that need not to be asha- 
med, rightly dividing the word of truth ; 
they will, ordinarily, be approved of man, 
and be esteemed very highly in love for 
their work's sake. But if not, they can 
take shelter behind no vote of Presbytery, 
nor act of Conference, nor Bbhop*s man- 
date. Moreover, they are freed from 
much temptation which inevitably, though 
oflen doubtless unconsciously, assails the 
ministers of the hierarchal churches. 
When once Pastor of a Congregational 
Church, such an one is essentially as high 
in office as he ever can be ; for each Con- 
gregational Church is on a par of essen- 
tial dignity with every other. There is 
no ascending grade of ecclesiastical pro- 
motion stretching before him up toward 
a Bishop's lawn, or an Archbishop's cro- 
sier, admonishing him not so much to 
' take heed to the ministry which he has 
received in the Lord, that he fulfil it,' as 
to take heed to that moderate, and con- 
servative, and conciliatory course towards 
those parties in whose hand it is to make 
great and to make small in the Church, 
which may be likely to result in the grati- 
fication of that ambition which the hierar- 
chal 8}^stems create. Many of the noblest 
and most truly memorable Divines whose 
ministrations have adorned the annals of 
Congregationalism, have been, through 
life, the pastors of some of the most in- 
considerable, numerically and socially, of 
her country Churches. 



. Congregationalism favors her Paston, 
also, by the independence of positioiL 
which she secures to thenL Albert Barnes 
could not preach the truth of Grod aa he 
understood it, and as his people rejoiced 
to hear it, without being intermeddled 
with by the Presbytery, on a charge <rf' 
heresy, and being driven out of the pul- 
pit, and silenced for weary months. Ask 
Episcopalian Rector cannot expound the 
thirty-nine Articles, though his conscience 
demand it, and his parish desire it never 
so much, essentially above or below the 
grade of Churchmanship of his Bishop, 
without risk of trial, and perhaps suspen- 
sion and deposition. In the Bode of Dis- 
cipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
(p. 57,) we read, '* remember I a Metho- 
dist Preacher is to mind every point, great 
and small, in the Methodist Discipline I " 
and, on the following page, his seven 
Bishops, in whose hand his ecclesiastical 
breath is ; who can send him to Siberia 
or Ethiopia, to exercise his ministry, as 
they please — say to him, as the condensa- 
tion and consummation of all their coun- 
sel in regard to his duties as a minister — 
" Above cUly if you labor with us in the 
Lord's vineyard, it is needful you should 
do that part of the work which we advise 
— at those times and places which we 
judge most for his glory I " This is " a 
yoke upon the neck of the disciples which 
neither our fathers nor wIb were able to 
bear." 

So, also, Congregationalism favors her 
ministry, above other forms of Church 
order, in the facilities which she afibrds 
them for usefulness. It is an old maxim 
that the less the harness chafes, the better 
the beast will draw; and our ministers 
are left to judge for themselves what field 
of labor will most befit their abilities. 
Each knows himself, and when a Church 
invites his service, he can tell, much bet- 
ter than any remote or stranger Bishop, 
or Presbytery, whether it is the place for 
him to work to the best advantage or not 
And when his decision is made, there is a 
freshness and affection about it which 



1859.] Cin^fregtdionalifm — its Features and Superiorities. 35 



peculiarly open the way for qaefalness. 
They have chosen him, and he has chosen 
them — both of free wilL He is their 
Pastor. They are his flock. They sup- 
port him. He serves them in Christ's 
name. Here is no outward interference 
to awaken jealousies, and confuse the 
mind. All is natural, and favors the 
fullest working of the Grospel. If he is 
fiuthful to them, and they to him, this 
affection, so largely facilitating usefulness, 
may grow stronger through many delight- 
ful years. He can say, as did the good 
Shunamite, **! dwell among mine own 
people ; " or as Ruth said to Naomi, " thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God 
my Qcd ; where thou diest will I die, and 
there will I be buried, the Lord do so to 
me and more also, if aught but death 
part thee and me." Friendships of years 
are fiirmed. They know him, and he 
learns to know them; and they trust 
each other, and do each other good all 
the days of their life. Such a life-union, 
which accords with the genius of our sys- 
tem, is like the marriage relation, which 
makes home — and that is heaven on earth ; 
as much better for the real interests of 
all than the best itinerant ministiy, as 
marriage is always better than concu- 
binage. Having long followed them, one 
by one, to the grave, he goes, at last, to 
lie down by their side. No sight is more 
touching than some of the grave-yards of 
New England, where — before its Congre- 
gationalism became polluted by the in- 
vasion of the itinerant element, from 
aoodier communion — ^under the shadow 
of the meeting-house, where all worshipped 
together, the bodies of Pastor and flock 
sleep sweetly, aide by side, waiting for 
the resurrection trump. 

Moreover, Congregationalism is fitted 
to stimulate its ministry, as no other sys- 
tem can naturally do, toward the highest 
intellectual and spiritual attainments, and 
the noblest and broadest influence. The 
very &cts, — that they are not honored be- 
cause of their oflice merely ; that they are 
free from Ecclesiastical temptations ; that 



they are left independent of all external 
advice or control, to be and do* for their 
people all which they can be and do, tend 
to stimulate them to the highest possible 
usefulness. They are thrown, by this 
very peculiarity of their position, directly 
upon God and Christ, and the Holy Spirit, 
for the supply of all their wants, of coun-^ 
sel and sympathy and strength ; and, liv- 
ing thus near to God, and accustomed to 
ask wisdom directly from Him, they get 
wiser and kindlier answers to their daily 
inquiries, than ever fell from Prelatical or 
Presbyterial lips. So, also, the inde- 
pendence of thought which prevails in the 
Church, and the general intelligence 
which is stimulated by it, compel the 
Pastor to wider research and deeper 
thought, and a higher level of general 
attainment, in order to retain his position 
as a servant of the Church, in teaching it, 
and guiding it, under Christ, in the green 
pastures and by the still waters of pros- 
perity and piety. 

(8.) Congregationalism has advantage 
over other systems, again, in the superior 
facilities which it aflbrds for carrying for- 
ward the great work of the Church on 
earth, and, particularly, in advancing that 
department of that work which demands 
the rebuke of organic sin. Christ came 
^ not to send peace but a sword ; " and 
his Church is commissioned to '* wrestle 
against principalities and powers, against 
the rulers of the darkness of this world, 
against spiritual wickedness in high places." 
Christians are not, indeed, to do anything 
merely for strife, but the kingdoms of 
this world cannot become the kingdom of 
Christ, unless his followers fight this good 
fight of &ith. They are to obey not 
merely the negative precept, ** be not 
conformed to this world," but the more 
positive injunction, '* overcome evil with 
good ! " Those great sins which men, 
tempted by Satan, have inwrought into 
the very structure of human society, must 
be dissected out, and the body politic re- 
lieved from their cancerous presence, 
before the word of the Lord " may have 



36 



CimgreffQiUtmaXBm — Us Features and Superiorities. [ Janl 



free course and be glorified." Christ's 
idea of the progress and final triamph of 
his Gospel on earth, evidently was, that 
the leaven of the Church in the first age 
should leaven, gradually, the lump of its 
generation, and this, the next ; and that 
so the power of reform from religious 
principle, should spread outward and on- 
ward, from its vital centre at Calvary, 
until it should have covered and conquered 
every inch of the globe, and every year 
of the future of the race. And this was 
to be accomplished, not by the effort or 
effect of the Church, as an oiganism, so 
much as by the labors and prayers of its 
individual members. So that the awaken- 
ing of the individuals of the Church to the 
most intelligent, prayerful, earnest and 
persevering labor for Christ, has been the 
great demand of Christianity, in every 
age. And that system of Church govern- 
ment which most favors such awakening 
and such labor, is best for men, and must 
best please and most honor Christ 

Now we claim that all the natural ten- 
dencies of the Congregational system 
look toward this result More than any 
other system, it arouses its members to 
intelligent and independent thought 
More than any other, it calls upon them 
to perceive and discharge their individual 
responsibility. More than any other, it 
tends to make every private member of 
the Church feel that Christ said unto him, 
as truly and as eamestiy as if it had been 
said in no other ear : '* Go ye into all the 
world, and preach the gospel to every 
creature." And, with regard to organic 
sins, where the Church must sanction 
them by treacherous silence, or oppose 
them by speech and action that may rouse 
a storm ; the peculiarities of Congregation- 
alism make it easier for its disciples to 
be faithful to the Master — and therefore 
make it more probable that they will be 
faithful — than any other system. The in- 
telligence of its membership and their 
training, has prepared them for indepen- 
dent and manful action. Each Church 
stands by itself, and there is no wide- 



branched organization, the fiaar of di^ 
turbing or rending which, acts as a seda- 
tive to conscience, and a dissuasive fixxm 
duty. 

It is ahnost a natural necessity, also, 
that such a system, stimulating, in the 
highest degree^ the activities of its con-' 
stituent masses, should exhibit a superior 
energy in carrying forward all depart- 
ments of the Redeemer's kingdom. His- 
tory only records what the philosophy of 
the case would have led us to prophesy, 
when she writes to the credit of the Con- 
gregational Churches the origin of modem 
benevolence. ^ Justin Edwards said, be- 
fore his decease : ' '* I could never have 
done what I did in the incipient move- 
ments of the American Tract Society, 
nor in the forming of the American Tem- 
perance Society, nor in the establishment 
of the American Sabbath Union, unles I 
had enjoyed the aid of a popular and un- 
fettered Church government, allowing me 
to combine the agencies of enterprising 
individuals, whenever and wherever I 
could find them — men accustomed to act 
for themselves — minute-men, ready for 
every good work, without waiting for the 
jarring and warring of Church Courts." 

(9.) Finally, we urge that Congrega- 
tionalism has preeminence over other 
Church Polities, in the fact that its obvi- 
ous advantages are organic and peculiar 
to itself, while what may seem to be its 
disadvantages, in contrast with differing 
systems, are merely incidental to the im- 
perfections with which it has been worked, 
and will be removed by a more faithfnl 
application of its principles. We have 
claimed, as its inherent advantages over 
other systems, its superior jN-acticability, 
simplicity and spirituality ; its remarkable 
development of general intelligence, and 
the sense of individual responsibility ; its 
safeguards against heresy ; its influence in 

1 The Amer. Board of Com. for For. UImIods; the 
Amer. Home Misa. See. ; the Amer. Tract 8oc. ; and 
the first moTements for Sailors, and in the caiue of 
Temperance, all are doe to Congregatlonalian. 

2 Park's Add. before Amer. Cong*l Un. 18U, p. i5. 



1859;] Cc 



j*j- »•- 



'y,> t'^'h'i 



FeatuareB and JSk^eriarities. 37 



ilB minirtry studioiiB, devout, inde- 
pezident, useful, permazient ; and its easier 
adaptatioQ to tlie works <^ pious benevo- 
lence, and of Christian rebuke of sin^ 
wliereyer found. vAil these advantages 
are structural, and not accidental ; grow- 
ing naturally out of the peculiarity of the 
system, and therefore to be found, except 
as exotic, in none of its oppositesb 

On the other hand, those featares in 
which other systems sometimes seem to 
ejEcel us, put us at a disadvantage, in the 
comparison, only because of our own un- 
fiuthfiilnessto the capalnlitiesof our system. 
Thus, it is an apparent advantage, which 
our Methodist brethren have over us, that 
— by means of their compact and powerful 
oiganixation, with its central tieasury— 
they can send a preacher to a place that 
cannot sustain him, and keep him there 
until he can develope strength enough to 
make a permanent Church upon the spot 
But when the sisterhood of Congrega- 
tional churches becomes fully awake to 
its missionary responsibilities, and ready 
to perform all its Church Extension 
dudes, its hand will be stretched out 
toward all sijch remote places, and church- 
es will be established there, more in sym- 
pathy with the genius loci than the des- 
potic Wesleyan system will permit Noth- 
ing needs to be added to our system, nor 
anything taken from it, to give it this new 
efficiency ; we only need to live better up 
to its fraternal capabilities. So, if we 
mistake not it will be found to be, in every 
other particular in vvhich. any other sys- 
tem may have us at a temporary disad- 
vantage. The superior 'order' of the 
stately hierarchies, so far as it is any better 
than our own, is only supplemental, and 
not antagonist to it, and will be superin- 
duced upon ours, as we grow in grace, and 
in the knowledge and practice of Godli- 
ness. 

It is curious, indeed, to see how the 
systems that oppose us are obliged, when 
in stress of difficulty, to forsake their first 
principles and appeal to ours. Thus, it 
ii a first principle with us, that the power 



lain the handset the pe<^le. Itisafirrt, 
principle in the English Church, on the 
contrary, that the power is in the hand of 
''the Church," meaning a hierarchal or- 
ganism, headed by the Queen, Archbish- 
op, Bishops, &c. But, let some Church- 
man be censured and degraded — as he 
thinks, unjustly — by the proper tribunal, 
and you will at once see him i^pealing 
to the people^ through the press, and plead- 
ing his cause with them, in the hope of 
so stirring up a popular commotion, as to 
convince his judges that their own safety 
requires the reversal of his sentence. And, 
if he succeeds well in hb efifort, you will 
see his judges pleading their cause before 
the same people in defence of what they 
have done, both parties thus committing a 
solecism to their first principles, coming 
over to our position, practically confessing 
that the power, after all, is with the peo- 
ple, and seeking to do indirectly by pub- 
lic sentiment, what we do directly by vote. 
Such, we claim to be, rudely outlined, 
some of the essential superiorities of the 
Congregational system. There may be 
many good things, and many better things, 
but there can be but one best thing, of its 
kind. Among the various forms of Church 
order, all are doubtless, in some aspects, 
good. Some may be, in many things, 
better than others. There can be but 
one that is, on the whole, best. If any 
one have this preeminence, it is by no 
means a matter of indifference, or of small 
moment, that t^ should "go everywhere 
preaching the word." There are obsta- 
cles enough for the best system to van- 
quish — particularly in the United States — 
to make it of great concern to remove 
those that are poorer out of the way, and 
to commit the work, at once, to the safest 
and strongest auspices. Irreligion and 
indifference abound. Population, unevan- 
gelized, continually pours in upon us, so 
that every day adds to the sum total of 
our impiety. Meanwhile, Christ waits to 
see of the travail of his soul that he may 
be satisfied. One can almost seem to bear 
him cr}', (with holy impatience,) as out of 



38 The Massachusetts General AssoeiaUan. [Jan. 

heaven he watches us, to those who so load Apostles, to that Papacy into which it 
themselves with cumbrous machines, which was afterward corrupted at Rome ; or that 
they have built for pomp or power, that thej Episcopacy into which Popery was trans- 
can carry next to no lading but the dead muted, to serve the passions and the will 
weight of the equipage — " away with all of Henry the Eighth ; or that Presbjte- 
such unscriptural folly. Return to the rianism which was conceived in the brain 
simplicity of the Gospel pattern. Sweep of Calvin ; or that Methodism which was 
down all barriers between the individual elaborated in the study of Wesley ; so we 
conscience and its Lord. Let the naked believe that he prefers that we should 
truth and the naked soul meet with no prefer it, and ' preach the Grospel to 
hierarchy between ; and * it shall be as the every creature ' by its aid. We hold, 
fire and the hammer ; ' it * shall break the therefore, that we cannot be, in the high- 
flinty rock in pieces.' * If ye love me, keep est sense, faithful to the Saviour — as we 
my commandments.' " surely cannot be intelligently grateful to 
We would have no man sectarian, in our Fathers, whom he honored as the 
its narrow and evil sense; but as we restorers of the original pattern of the 
believe that Christ prefers the system order of his house — unless we make every 
shaped by his own counsels, and his proper effort to Congregationalize the 
guiding influence on the minds of his land. 



»— •- 



HISTORICAL SKETCH 
OF THE GENERAL ASSOCLA.TION OF MASSACHUSETTS. 

BY ITS 8ECRETART. 

In the spring of the year 1802, Brook- the doctrines of Christianity as they are 
field Association, a clerical body in the generally expressed in the Assembly's 
interior of Massachusetts, sent letters to Shorter Catechism, for the basis of union 
the other district Associations in the State, and fellowship." They agreed that the 
proposing the formation of a General As- objects should be the promotion of bro- 
sociation, and inviting correspondence therly intercourse and harmony, their 
and consultation upon the subject. '^ The mutual assistance, animation, and useful- 
disconnected state of the Associations ness, as ministers of Christ ; to obtain re- 
within the limits of this important section ligious information relative to the state of 
of New England, the littie acquaintance their churches and of the Christian Church 
which its minbters have with each other, in this country and throughout the world, 
and the hope that by drawing closer the and to cooperate with one another and 
bonds of union, the cause of truth might with similar institutions, in the most eligi- 
be promoted," says the first published de- ble manner for building up the cause of 
claration of this body, (Panoplist, 1807,) truth and holiness. They declared its de- 
** suggested the expediency of a General sign to be *' to cherish, strengthen and 
Association." In consequence of the pro- transmit " " the pure principles of Con- 
posal of Brookfield Association, delegates gregationalism," and wholly disclaimed 
from eight Associations met at Northamp- ** ecclesiastical power over the churches, 
ton, July 7, 1802, for consultation. "They or the opinions of individuals." Upon 
united in opinion," says the document that basis they recommended each Asso- 
above quoted, " that it was expedient ciation to appoint two delegates to a scs- 
that a General Association be formed, sion to be held at Northampton the suc- 
They agreed to admit as articles of faith ceeding year, formally to organize a Gen- 



1859.] 



The Idaaaachmetts General Assoeiaium. 



39 



eral Afsociation. The eight Associations 
thus acting, were : Berkshire, (now di- 
yided into Berkshire North and Berkshire 
South,) Mountain, (a body once lying 
principally in the south-west comer ot 
Hampshire county, but lapping over into 
Berkshire and Hampden, and now ex- 
tinct,) Hampshire South, (now divided 
into Hampden East and Hampden West,) 
Hampshire North, (now Hampshire, and 
then including the present Franklin,) 
Hampshire North-east, (now extinct,) 
Brookfield, (still existing at the venerable 
age of 101 years,) Westminster, (now the 
Unitarian Worcester West,) and Mendon, 
(still thrifty at the age of 107.) 

Five, only, of the District Associations 
were represented the next year, in the ses- 
sion held at Northampton, June 29, 1803, 
viz : Hampshire North, Berkshire, Moun- 
tain, Brookfield and Westminster. Of 
those present at the consultation of the 
preceding year, Mendon had voted 
against uniting in the plan ; Hampshire 
North-east was only dragging out a linger- 
iDg existence, having but four members in 
1804, and soon vanishing forever ; Hamp- 
shire South was absent, for reasons now 
unknown, and remaned unpresented un- 
til 1810. Who were the delegates from 
the Associations represented, it is now im- 
possible to tell, the records of the General 
Association having been burned in the 
fire which destroyed the house of the Sec- 
retary, in October, 1816 — an illustration 
of the need of such a periodical as this, 
and of such a Kpository as that of the 
Congregadonal Library Association. The 
delegates present proceeded to act, and 
organized the General Association of 
Massachusetts. On that occasion, the 
Rev. Thomas Holt,^ a delegate from 

1 In addition to epecifio references, these notes are 
eompiled from Sprague''s AnntUs^ the Am. Quarterly 
Register^ the College Triennials, and MS. papers of 
the writer. 

Thomas Holt was bom in Meriden, Ct., Not. 
1762 ; was graduated at Tale College in 1784 ; studied 
BtrinUy with Professor Wales, of Tale College, and 
Dr. Tmmlmll, of North HaTen, Ct. ; was ordained 
Pastor of the Church in Hardwick, Ms., June 26, 
1789S; was dismissal March 27, 1806 ; was instaUed 



Brookfield Association, preached the pub- 
lic lecture. 

The second session was held at Hard- 
wick, June 27, 1804, and embraced the 
same five Associations. Rev. Joseph Lee,' 
a delegate fix>m Westminster Association, 
was Moderator, and preached the public 
lecture ; the text was, " That they all 
may be one, as thou Father art in me, 
and I in thee, that they also may be one 
in us; that the world may know that 
thou hast sent me." — John xvii : 21 ; a 
text suggestive of the theme whose record 
is irretrievably lost The ofiice of Secre- 
tary was established, and Bev. Enoch 
Hale' was chosen, **to continue during 
the pleasure of the Greneral Association.*' 

It may seem strange that so few Asso- 
ciations should have joined in this enter- 

at Chebacco (Ipswich.) January 25, 1809 ; was dis- 
missed April 20, 1818 ; he afterwards resided on a 
fiurm at HardlHck, although for a large portion of his 
time — when he had not a special charge — he was 
employed as a missionary in Maine, New Hampshire, 
Rhode Island, and Connecticut. " He maintained a 
life of consistent piety, practised the duties he in- 
culcated on others, sustained by the doctrines he 
had preached, and to the last, manifested an un- 
shaken reliance on the merits of an atoning Bayiour." 
The last year of his life was spent with his fiunily in 
Hardwick. He died Feb. 21, 1886. 

2 JosiPH Lu was bom in Concord, Ms., in 1742, 
grad. H. C. 1765 ; was ordained the first pastor of 
the Church in Boyalston, Oct. 19, 1768 ; and died 
Feb. 16, 1819. " He continued an able and faithful 
minister more than fifty years. His life was a con- 
tinued exhibition of Christian character." Near the 
close of his life, he being infirm, a call was extended, 
in perfect accordance with Mr. Lee's wish, to Ebene- 
ser Perkins, to become colleague. The Council as- 
sembled the day preTious to that set for the ordina- 
tion. "On this very day, this Tenerable saint and 
beloTed pastor fell asleep in Jesus." 

8 Sxoofl Hau, the first Secretary of the Massachu- 
setts General Association, a brother of the Revolu- 
tionary martyr, Nathan Hale, was bom in Coventry, 
Ct., in 1754; was graduated at Tale College in 
1773 ; was ordained pastor of the Church in West- 
hampton, Ms., Sept. 29, 1779 ; and died Jan. 14, 1887. 
He held the office of Secretary of the General Asso- 
ciation from 1804 to 1824. Mr. Hale left three 
sons, via : Hon. Nathan Hale, who has so long given 
character to the Boston Daily Advertiser, Enoch Hale, 
M.D., and Richard. — ^Rev. Enoch Hale was son of 
Deacon Richard Hale, of Coventry, Ct., grandson of 
Sam'l Hale of Newbury, great-grandson of Rev. John 
Hale, the first minister of Beverly, and great-great- 
grandson of Dea. Robert Hale, of Charlestown.— Dr. 
B. Davis, ^N. B. Hist.-Gen. Register. 



40 



The Ma68achu9etts General Assodatum. 



[Jah. 



prifle. District Aasociatioxis had existed 
in Massachusetts in some form, for a hun- 
dred and seventy years, and under a 
formal and unbroken organization since 
1690, and the idea of a union of these 
scattered bodies was natural. Besides, 
the neighboring state of Connecticut had 
had such an organization as the one pro- 
posed, since 1 709. And yet at the second 
session, only five of the twenty-four Asso- 
ciations had entered into the project The 
able and influential Barnstable, Boston, 
Cambridge, Mendon, Plymouth, Salem, 
were absent; and only five, and they 
country bodies, were present 

Various causes contributed to this re- 
sult It was feared by many that such a 
body, if it attained a position comprehend- 
ing all the clergy of the State, would 
gradually assume power over the faith 
and order of the churches. It was thought 
by a few, who held strong doctrinal views, 
that, covering the broad shades of opinion 
then existing in the Commonwealth, it 
would lower the tone of Orthodoxy by com- 
promising varying views. It was looked 
upon by the party soon to be developed 
into Unitarian, as objectionable fi:x>m the 
very groundwork of its faith, the Assem- 
bly's Catechism; while a large portion 
viewed it either with entire indifierence, 
or else as unnecessary and useless. And 
the existence of the Greneral Convention 
of Congregational Ministers, which met 
annually, and which then had advanced 
into its second century, seemed, in some 
degree at least, to occupy the ground. 
On account of these various sources of 
opposition, the General Association had a 
limited origin, and a slow growth. Grad- 
ually, however, all the advantages and 
disadvantages were lost in one fact, viz : 
that the Association, with the Catechism 
as its basis, served as a bond to the de- 
fenders of that faith ; while its opposition 
was found in that section which soon 
openly avowed itself Unitarian ; both 
parties evidently saw distinctly that a 
movement basing itself on the old Cal- 
vinistic theolog}', would speedily separate 



friends and foes, as the event proved. 
It was on this account t^t the oi^gani- 
zadon was reprobated by the seaboard 
clergy, and upheld by the Associations 
located in those rugged localities, which 
are never fiivorable to a loose and effemi- 
nate theology. 

The finends of the movement were not 
disheartened. To increase the size and 
efficiency of the body. Dr. Lyman, ^ of 
Hatfield, endeavored to enlist the aid of 
the *' Convention of Congregational Min- 
isters " in favor of the project Hie mat- 
ter was brought before that body May 80, 
1804, in the form of a question, ** whether 
th^ would form themselves into a Gen- 
ersJ Association for the purpose of < pro- 
moting ministerial acquaintance and broth- 
erly love, and learn more perfectly the 
state of the churches and promote their 
prosperity." A vote was passed, referring 
the matter to the various District Associa- 
tions, and appointing a Cominittee to write 
to them on the subject This Committee, 
of which Rev. Dr. WiUard, * President ci 

1 JosKPH Ltmah, D. D., son of Jonathan and B«- 
thiah Lyman, was bom In Lebanon, Ct., April 14, 
1749 ; was gndnatod at Tale OoUege In 1767 ; was 
tutor there in 1770-71 ; was ordidned, March 4, 1772, 
pastor of the Church in Hatfield, Ms. ; reoeiTed the 
degree of D. D. ftom Williams College in 1801 ; and 
died March 27, 1828. Dr. Lyman was one of the 
earliest friends of the Hampshire Missionary Society, 
and in 1812 was chosen its President ; was, from the 
beginning, a member of the A. B. C. F. M., in 1819 
Its Vice President, and from 1828 to 1826 its Presi- 
dent. The General Association was fortunate in 
haTing its cause espoused by Dr. Lyman ; with a 
power of gOTeming and controlling other minds, see- 
ing at a glance the best thing to be done, self-rdlant 
but conciliatory, eomprehensi?e, Judidons, rapid In 
execution, he acquired and wielded a powerftil influ- 
ence among the clergy and churches of Massachusetts. 

2 JosKPH WiLLARD, D.D., was bom in Biddeford, 
Me., Dee. 29, (0. S.) 1788 ; was son of Her. Samuel 
and Abigail (Wright) Willard ; was born and reared 
in poverty, but, by aid of others and his own en- 
ergy, was enabled to enter Harrard College, where be 
was graduated 1766 ; was tutor for six year* ; was 
ordained Pastor of the 1st Church in Beverly, Ms., 
Not. 25, 1772, as eollea^e with Rev. Joseph Champ- 
ney ; D.D. at Harvard, 1785 ; L.L.D. at Yale, 1791 ; 
was elected President of Harvard College in 1781, and 
was instituted as such Dec. 19, of that year. He re- 
mained in this poaition until his death, Sept. 25, 1804. 
His oharaoter is too well known to need eulogy. — 
WlUard Ifsmolni. 



1859.] 



The Massaehuseits General AuodaUon. 



41 



Harrard College, was chairman, wrote as 
directed, Hie writer, however, dying be- 
fore the next session. 

There were then twenty-fbor Associa- 
tions in Massachusetts Proper, whose 
names and number of members were 
Uiese : — ^Barnstable, 7, Bay, 10, Berkshire, 
1 7, Boston, 16, Brookfield, 18, Cambridge, 
11, Dedham, 8, Eastham, 6, Essex Mid- 
die, 10, Hampshire Central, 14, Hamp- 
shire North, 12, Hampshire North East, 
4, Hampshire South, 12, Haverhill, 7, 
Marlboro', 10, Mendon, 12, Mountain, 
13, Plymouth, 17, Salem, 12, Unity, 7, 
Westford, 7, Westminster, 11, Wilmington, 
9, Worcester, 7; there was also one in 
Maine, viz., Woolwich, 6. 

Several of the Associations appear to 
have made no reply ; of those who did act, 
the letters of fifteen are preserved among 
the valuable collections of the Congrega- 
tional Library Association, and were to 
the following efiect :-*- 

Berkshire assented to the proposal, 
April 16, 1805, (Stephen West,^ Mode- 
rator.) Brookfield did the same Feb- 
ruary 12, 1805, (Ephraim Ward,^ Mod- 
erator.) HAifPSRiRE Central "appro- 
ved," (Enoch Hale being Scribe pro tern.) 
Hampshire North "cordially appro- 
ved,** (Jonathan Grant, Scribe.) Ha- 
YERHiLL voted favorably May 17, 1805, 
Stephen Peabody' writing the answer. 

1 SiOHiir Wk, D.D., WM born in Tolland, Ct., 
Not. 18, 1786 ; gndnated at Tale College, 1756 ; itnd- 
led theoJogj wilh Ber. Timothj Woodbrl<|ge, of Hat^ 
fltid ; WM Chaplain for more than riz jean at Hooiaek 
Fort ; aecepted, in Nor. 1768, a propoeal to succeed 
Jonathan Bdwarde, in the Indian Minion at Stock- 
bfldSB, and waa ordained there June 16, 1769. In a 
frv years be gate up the Indian portion of hia 
ehaiie, and eonflned himaelf to the increasing body 
of English. Be was dismissed Aug. 27, 1818, after 
having had a ooDeague for nearly eight years. He 
rseefved the degree of D.D., from Dartmouth College, 
fai 1798, and was one of the original Trustees of Wil- 
liamaCoUege. He died Hay 16, 1819. 6Mpenons 
united with the Church during his pastorate. 

S SpubLDf Wakd was bom in Newton, Ms., in 
1741 ; grad. H. C, 1768 ; was ordained Pastor of the 
Church in West Brookfield, Oct. 28, 1771, and died 
March 19, 1818. ** He was a plain, practical, eTangel- 
leal prsadier."— Ward's Newton. 

8 HaTerhill AModation then covered a few towns 



Mountain was unanimoiu in the same 
durection, (Theodore Hinsdale, Modera* 
tor.) Westford, meeting at Dracnt, 
(Paul Litchfield ^ being Moderator, and 
Freegrace Reynolds^ Scribe,) not only 
approved the plan, but also suggested the 
Assembly's Catechism as a proper platform* 
Several Associations were undecided. 
Plymouth, (Joseph Barker,* Scribe,) 
did not sufficientiy understand the object 
Salem, (May 15, 1805, Thomas Barnard,' 
Scribe,) declined to express an opinion, 
but appointed Dr. Cutler of Hamilton, a 
delegate, for the sake of information^ 
Barnstable, (John Simpkins,* Mode- 
rator,) was in favor of some plan to secure 
a " uniform method of ecclesiastical gov- 
ernment and discipline," but objected to 
any attempt "to compel assent to any 
creed or confession of faith of human de^ 
vising;" it joined the General Associa- 

in New Hampshire ; SnPBnr Piabodt was minister 
at Atldnson, N. H., where he was ordained Nor. 26, 
1772. He died May 28, 1819. 

4 Paul LitoBfiiu> was horn in Seitoate, Ms., 
March 12, 1762 ; grad. H. C, 1776 ; studied DiTinitj 
with Dr. West, of Stoekbridge ; was ordained Pastor 
of the Choreh in Oarlisie, Not. 7, 1781, and died Not. 
5,1827. 

6 fsuoftAOK Rxnrou>8 was bom at Somers, Ot;, 
Jan. 20, 1767; grad. Tale, 1787; studied DiTinitj 
with Dr. Baekos, of Somers ; was ordained Pastor of 
the Ohnroh at Wihnington, Oot. 28, 1706 ; was dia- 
miswd Jnne 9, 1880 ; was installed Pastor of the 
Church in LeTerett, Ms., Not. 1882; resigned in 
1889 ; returned to THlmington, and died there Dec. 
8, 1864.— General Association Minutes. 

6 JouPH Bakkbe was bom In Bradford Ot., Oct 
19, 1T61, being son of Joseph Barker; grad. Tale, 
1771; was ordained iu Middleboro', OTer the Isfe 
Church, Deo. 6, 1781 ; died July 26, 1816. Mr. Barker 
took a liTely interest in polities, and Ibr one term or 
more represented his District In the U. 8. House of 
BepresentatiTes.— Dr. Putnam's Hist. Sermons. 

7 Thomab Baenabd, D.D., was first Pastor of the 
North Church, Salem, where he was ordained Jan. . 
18, 1788. He was a natlTe of Newbury, bom Veb. 6, ^ 
1748 ; was graduated at HarTard 1766 ; reedTed the 
degree of D.D., from Edinburgh, in 1794. He died 

of apoplexy, Oct. 1, 1814. 

8 JoHV Sdcpuxb was a natlTe of Boston, Ms., bora 
in 1768 ; grad. HarTard, 1786 ; ordained at Brewster, 
Ms., Oct. 19, 1791, and condnued Pastor until 1881, 
when he was dismissed ; he afterwards returned to 
Boston. Mr. Simpkins ncTer took a decided position 
in the separation between the Orthodox and Unita* 
rians, but towards the last of his life, at least, leaned 
toward the latter. 



42 



The Mauachuaetts General Assceiatian. 



[Jan. 



ticm, howeTer, in 1821. Unitt, meeting 
Harvard, (Phinehas Whitney,' Moder- 
ator,) was undecided, though leaning to 
the opposition, but intimated that some 
modifications of tiie plan might prove ac- 
ceptable. 

On the other hand, four Associations 
were decidedly opposed. Essex Middle 
objected, (May 14, 1805, Joseph Dana,* 
Moderator,) on the not unreasonable 
ground that the churches ought to be re- 
cognized and consulted in a matter con- 
cerning reli^on. Marlboro', (Peter 
Whitney,* of Northboro*, Moderator,) 
thought that such a body was uncalled 
fbr, assigning as particular reasons for 

1 PHnriHAi Wmnrxr ma bom in WmIod, Ms., 
April 24, 1740 ; gnd. H. 0., 1759 ; wujordBlned OTer 
the 1st Chureh in Shirley, Ms., June 28, 1702, and 
dkd Deo. 18, 1819. Mr. Whitn^ was three tlsMS 
married : (1) to Miriam WUIard, (2) to I^dia Bowes, 
(8) widow Jane Garfield. He had ten children ; his 
second son, Ber. Nicholas B. Whitnej, bom March 
21, 1772 ; grad. H. 0., 1788; was minister at Hlng- 
ham, and died in 1886.— N. X. Hist.-Gen. R«f • 

8 JouPB Daha, D.D., son of Joseph and Mazy 
Dana, was bom in Pomftet,Ot., Not. 2, 1742 ; grad. 
Tale, 1780; stndied theology with Ber. Mr. (after- 
wards Dr.) Hart, of Preston, Ct. ; was ordained orer 
the South Ghnrch in Ipswich, Ms., Not. 7, 1766. 
He reoeiTed the degree of D.D. fkom Harrard College, 
in 1801. He died Nor. 16, 1827. The Tenerable 
B«T. Dr. Dana, of Newbnrypwt, is a son. 

A Psm WmnraT, son of Ber. Aaron Whitney, of 
PMerSham, was bora In Petersham, Sept. 6, 1744 ; 
grad. H. C, 1782 ; was ordained orer the 1st Ohnrefa 
in Northb<Mro', Nov. 4, 1767 ; he tbU dead, as he was 
crossing the thvediold of his hoose, Feb. 29, 1816. 
He was the author of a valuable History of Woroes- 
tsrOooaty. He married, March 11, 1768, Jnlla Lam- 
bert, of Beadhig, and had eleven children. His sec- 
ond son, Peter, bora la Northboro*, Jan. 19, 1770, 
grad. H. C, 1791 ; was ordained over the 1st Ohnrch, 
Qnfaicy, Feb. 6, 1800, and died March 8, 1848. Two 
of Peter's sons became clergymen, vis : George, and 
Frederick Angostos. George was bora at Qoiney, 
Jnly 2, 1804 ; grad. H. 0., 1824 ; was theologicaUy 
edueated at Cambridge Divinity School ; was ordained 
Pastor of the 2d Cbnieh In Boxboiy, (now Bev. Mr. 
Wilson's,- in West Boxbnry,) June 15, 1881, and in- 
stalled associate Pastor with Bev. Dr. Thomas Gray, 
at Jamaica Plain, Feb. 10, 1886. He married, Dec. 
16, 1826, Ann Ckeenongh, only daughter of Bev. Dr. 
Ozmy,and died April 2, 1842; his widow, a highly 
respected lady, still lives at Jamaica Plain ; Freder- 
lek Augustus was bora in Quincy, Sept. 18, 1812 ; 
grad. H. C, 1882; theologically educated at Gam- 
bridge; was ordained Pastor of Uie 1st Church, 
Brighton, Feb. 21, 1844.— N. B. Hlst-Gea. BegMv. 



declining, (1) that the ** OonventioKi u 
sufficient " to secure all the good resnlts 
contemplated, (2) that there might be 
excited an unnecessaiy jealousy on the 
part of the people against the clergy , and 
(8) that if its object was to secure oni* 
formity of creed, that was totally impossi- 
ble. WoBCESTEB, (Joseph Sumner,^ 
Moderator,) dissented unanimously, al- 
leging (1) the impracticability of the plan, 
on account of the ** number," ^ distance," 
and ^ disagreement " of the clergy, (2) 
that it was ** dangerous to the peace and 
liberty of Congregational Churches," by 
reason of probable attempts to enferee 
uniform ^ discipline," (8) that it would 
** increase the jealousy of the people 
against the body of the clergy," and (4) 
that '*the useful purposes contemplated 
by the motion may be more efieotuaUy 
answered under the influence of the Cob- 
Tcntion of Ministers." Boston entered 
into a long and labored argument in oppo- 
sition to the plan, in a paper now existing 
in its records, as well as in the copy com- 
municated to the committee ; it was adopted 
May 5, 1805 ; after expressing its approral 
of the ** sentiments in which the proposal 
appears to have originated," — in (quoting 
from the letter addressed to them,) *^ that 
the Christian harmony and friendly co* 
operation of the ministers of the Gospel 
are concerns of high mutual benefit, and 
conduce generally to increase their useful- 
ness in the church of God," they proceed 
to express their disbelief in the efficacy a£ 
the plan to promote either such harmony 
or usefulness ; as to co-operation it con- 
aders the annual Convention as ** suffi- 
cient for mutual encouragement and as- 
sistance," the several Associations as high- 
ly conducive to the improvement, solace 
and incitement of individuals," and £o- 

4 JosiPH SuMiriB, DJ>., son of Samuel and SUm- 
beth (Oriffln) Sumner, was bom in Pomfret, Ot., Jan. 
19, 1740 ; was graduated at Tale College in 1769 ; 
D.D. at Harrard, 1814, and at Columbia ; ordained in 
Shrewsbury Ms., June 28, 1762, and died Dee. 9, 
1824. " During the period of sixty-two years," says 
ReT. Aaron Dancroft, in his ftineral sermon, ** he 
was nerer absent from the stated communion of his 
Church."- 



1869.] 



Ths Muaaehiuetti Qeneral AuoeiaUon. 



4S 



HeiiMtiftal Omncik, as a '* profitaUe and 
edifying communion " for ndnisten and 
chorchefl; and while it would favor any 
auitable plan to increase these advantages, 
yet considering "the state of religious 
opimoDS," say they, ^ and the ipkrit and 
dreumttaneei of ^ihe times, we are led to 
believe that no practicable plan of this 
nature can be formed, and we are appre- 
liensive that the proposed measure for pro- 
noting hannony will be more likely to 
interrupt it f — It thought that, by the dis- 
cussion oi doctrinal bases, there would re- 
mit "an erection of barriers between 
those who at present are not formally 
iepaiated, and the bonds of union woul^ 
be strengthened between those only who 
are already sufficiently cemented." It 
insists equally strongly that usefulness will 
be inqpaired, rather than assisted, particu- 
lariy by the tendency to uphold |" human 
standards of opinion," which might be so 
active in creating prejudice against dis- 
sentients, that there would be a '* spirit of 
uncharitableness and censoriousness pro- 
duced, and the teachers of religion placed 
under powerful temptations either to shun 
declaring the whole counsel of God, or to 
teach for doctrines the commandments of 
men." The whole paper, while conceived 
and expressed in a kind and courteous 
S|nrit, yet clearly shows that the main ob- 
stacle to a union, was their own departure 
from the doctrinal views of the earlier 
New England clergy, an obstiCcle of whose 
existence the Boston Association was 
evidently itself conscious. In addition to 
the above, it is also known that Cam- 
BRiDOB and MsNDOX Associations dis- 
lentedy the latter on grounds which pre- 
vented its union with the General Asso- 
ciation up to 1841. 

This effort through the Convention 
i^pears to have had litde effect, except 
to have excited feelings of estrangement 
Certainly, it neither caused the Conven- 
tion to become a General Associadon, nor 
brought in additicmal District Associationa 

We have seen that only five Associa- 
tions were represented in 1804. At the 



next session, held at Washington, June 
26th, 1805, the number was still less; 
only three — ^Berkshire, Mountain, and 
Hampshire North — appeared. Berkshire 
was represented by Bev. Messrs. Ephraim 
Judson,^ and Alvan Hyde;' Mountain 
by Theodore Hinsdale and William J. 
Ballantine ; ' Hampshire North by Rufiis 
Wells * and Enoch Hale. Of its proceed- 
ings neither records nor traditions exist 
Only the same three Associations were 
represented the next year, 1806, at Hat- 
field. At that meeting a change was 
made in the rules ; such that the Secre- 
tar3r8hip was for a three years' term, and 
that the Secretary and the minister of the 
place of meeting, be ex officio members, 
their respective Associations retaining 
their right to appoint the two delegates 
allowed to each. This rule and this 
method of representation, has continued 
to the present time unchanged. Rev. 

1 £PHRAZM JuDSOir, MD of Elukthaii and Beb«ooa 
Jadson, WM born in Woodbnxy, Ot., Dee. 6, 1787 ; 
gnd. Tale, 1768; studied theology with Rer. Dr. 
BeUamj ; wm ordained in Chelsea, (Norwich) Ot., 
Oct. 8, 1771 ; WM dismissed Dee. 15, 1778 ; was settled 
In Tannton, Ms., in 1780 ; reeigniiMi in 1789 ; was 
settled in Sheffield, in May, 1791, and died Ftob. 28, 
1818. ** He was an able, soond, and fkithftd preach- 
er. His labors were rery mach blessed. A number 
of young men studied DlTini^ with him.'' A por- 
trait of him, with a fall and interesting account, is 
in Emery 'i Taluable "Ministry of Taunton." Hil 
brother, Adoniram, was fkther to the missionary of 
that name. 

8 Altah Htdi, D.D., son of Joseph Hyde, was 
bom in Norwich, Ot., V^b. 2, 1798 ; grad. Dartmouth, 
1788; studied theology with Ber. Mr. (afterwards 
Dr.) Backus, at Somers ; was ordained at Lee, Ms., 
June 6, 1792 ; married, April 1798, Lucy, daughter 
of BenJ. Fessenden, of Sandwich ; D.D., Dartmouth, 
1812 ; died Dec. 4, 1888. During his ministiy, 704 
persons united with the Church in Lee. ** Dr. Hyde 
belonged to the old school of New England Theol- 
ogy.*' ** Without calling any man master, hebelieTed 
in the Westminster Catechism .** " A model of plain, 
direct, common sense px^eaching.'* *< Solemn, grave, 
and correct." 

8 WiLUAM G. BALLARTDri was bom in Westfleld, 
Ms., ; grad H. C, 1771 ; studied DiTinity with Bev. 
Dr. Parsons, of Amherst ; was ordained Pastor of the 
Church in Weshington, Bis., June 16, 1774, and died 
Not. 20, 1820. 

4BUFU1 Wills was bom in Deerfleld, Ms., in 
1764; settled at Whately, Sept 2K, 1771, and died 
Not. 8, 1884. "He was esteemed a nssAilmliilster.>* 



44 



The McMochusetts General Aseoeiatian. 



[Jan. 



Enoch Hale was re*appoint6d Seciretary, 
which office he held to the great satisfac- 
tion of the body, until in 1824 he declined 
a reelection. 

In 1807, June 24, the General Associar 
tion met at Windsor. Six Associations 
were present Berkshire sent Revs. Dr. 
V Stephen West and Ebenezer Fitch ;^ 
Mountain, Theodore Hinsdale and James 
Briggs ; ' Hampshire North, Josiah Spald- 
ing;' Hampshire Central, Rufns Wells 
and Joel Hayes ; * Worcester South, Sam- 
uel Austin;' Essex Middle, Samuel 

1 SBorium Fetch, D.D., was at this tim« Presi- 
dent of WlUiams College. Bom in Norwich, Gt., 
Sept. 26, 1766, helng son of Jabet and Lydia <Hont- 
ington) FIteh ; grad. Tale, 1777 ; ftom 1780 to 1788, 
Tutor in Tale Oolleg* ; engaged in buahiew In 1788, 
irith Henry Daggett, of New Haven, which proved 
nnsnooeirfhl ; Tutor again, and Librarian from 17% 
to 1791 ; iftade a public proftaiion of religion in May 
1787 ; in Oct. 1791, entered on tlie duties of Precep- 
tor of an Academy at WllUamstowni Ms., which in 
June 1798, became a Oollege, of which he was the 
first President ; resigned May 1815. June 17, 1796, 
he had been ** ordained to Um work of the ministry," 
** by the Berkshire Association." In the autumn if 
1815, he became Pastor of the Presbyterian Church 
in West Bloomfleld, N. T. ; resigned Not. 1827, and 
died March 21, 1888.— (See Sprague.) 

2 Jammb Bbxocw was bom in Newton, Ms., Jan. 18, 
1746; grad. Tale, 1776; ordained Pastor of the 
Chtuwh in Cummington, Ms., July 7, 1779, where he 
had been preaching for sereral years previous ; died 
I)eo. 7, 1825. He " was a very useful and respecta- 
ble minister." When he was settled, the town voted 
to give him 200 acres of good land and :£60 (estimated 
by rye at 8s. 4d. a bush««l,) for "settlement," and £60 
palary, to b« increased by X5 a year till it reached 
£00, estimated by rye, as above ; by beef at jM)d^ a j 
pound, and flax at 8d. a pound. 

8 JosuB SPALMNa was bora in Plainfleld, (3t, 
Jan. 10, 1761 ; grad. Tale, 1778 ; ordained at Uz- 
bridge, Sept 11, 1782 ; dismissed Oct. 28, 1787 ; was 
Installed in Washington, Aug. 1788 ; after dismiiUon 
he was installed in Buekland in 1791, where he died, 
May 8, 1828. ** He was a fidthftil preacher, and of 
evangelical sentiments. His name is cherished with 
much respect." 

4 Jou. HATX8 was bora in 1764 ; was settled in 
South Hadley, Ms., Oct. 28, 1782,; as colleague Pas- 
tor with Rev. John Woodbridge, and became sole 
Pastor the next year ; died July 1827. ** He was a 
man of hind feelings, and In the pulpit was remark- 
able for * great plainness of speech.' He was a firm 
believer in the doctrines of grace, and did not hesi- 
tate to preach them with boldness." 

5 Samuil Austik, D J)., one of the prime movers 
in the formation of the Qeneral Association, was of 
Woxvester ; he was born in New Haven, Ot., Oct. 7, 



Spring* and Isaac Braman ;' Enoch Hale, 
as Secretary, and Gordon Dorrance,* min- 
ister of the place, were also members. It 
will be seen that Essex Middle (now exist- 
ing as Essex North, 9 7 jearsold,) and Wtx^ 
cester South (now extinct,) were present 
for the first time. Rev. Dr. West was 
Moderator, and Bey. Samuel Austin, 
Scribe, the buaness of the Scribe being 
then, as now, to record the proceedings of 
the session and place them in the hands 
of the Secretary. The proceedings of 
that session were, in part, published in- the 
Fanoplist ; either in that form or in a 
separate pamphlet their publication has 
since been continued, and affords excel- 
lent data for recording its history, al- 
though xiot even the body itself has a oon>- 
plete set of its Minutes. In connection 
with this publication in the Fanoplist, was 

1760 ; was in his youth soldier in the army, as sub- 
stitute for his fkther ; commenced the study of law, 
but entered College, and grad. at Tale, 1788; oooi- 
menced his theological studies with Rev. Dr. Jooa- 
tlian Edwards ; was ordained in New Haven, (Fair- 
haven Society,) Nov. 9, 1786; resigned three years 
afterwards; was installed Sept. 29, 1790, over the 
let Church in Worcester ; DJ). at WiUlams, 1807 ; in 
July 1816, Preddmt of the University of Yermont, 
where he remained about six years ; he was pastor 
of a Church in Newport, R. I., for four years, but 
resigned it, and never again settled ; he died in the 
fkmily of his nepliew. Rev. Samuel H. Riddel, then 
of Glastonbury, Ct , Dec. 4, 1880. " His piety was 
habitual and ardent, deep and discriminating." 
" The topics on which he delighted most to dwall 
were the benevolence, the sovereignty, and the g^ory 
of Qod ; the great system of redemption ; the eliar- 
acter of Christ, and his sufferings, with their exten- 
sive result on tlie universe, and especially in the 
sanetifloation and salvation of his chosen people.'*— 
(See Sprague's Annals.) 

6 Samuil Spuna, DJ)., the venerated Pastor at 
Newburyport, so instrumental in the establislunent 
of Andover Theological Seminary. Bom at North- 
bridge, Feb. 27, 1746; grad. College New Jeraqr, 
1771 ; ord^ned Aug. 6, 1777 ; died March 4, 1819. 

7 IBAAO BRAiLiff still suTvivcs, the sole remaining 
member of that sesiion, and is still the pastor (now 
senior,) of the Church in Georgetown, Ms., where 1m 
was ordained June 7, 1797. He was bom in Norton, 
July 6, 1770 ; grad. H. C, 1794. 

S GoanoH Doe&aicoi was bom in Sterling, Gt.,; 
grad. Dartmouth, 1786 ; studied theolofor with Rev. 
Dr. Levi Hart, of N. Preston, (now Qriswold) Ct. ; 
ordained Pastor of the Church in Windsor, Ms., July 
1,1795; was dismissed July 15, 18S4; and di«l in 
Atttea, N. T., where be resided with his son. 



1859.] 



The MaatachiueUs General Anodatim. 



45 



iasued a statemeat of the plan and object 
of the organization, from which qnota- 
tions haye already been made. 

In consequence dther of the statement 
in the Fanoplist, or of the writing of the 
Secretary to yarioos Associations inviting 
their presence, we find that at the session 
in Worcester, on the last Wednesday in 
June, 1808, several new Associations were 
represented. In addition to Berkshire, 
lioantain, Hampshire Central, (the old 
Hampshire North onder a new title,) 
Worcester South, and Westminster, we 
find Hampshire North (a new body which 
took the name dropped by the old Hamp- 
shire North, and which is now Franklin,) 
and Hayerhill; several gentlemen were 
also present who were invited to sit as 
honoraiy members, viz: Beverends Jo- 
se}^ Pope ^ and Zephaniah S. Moore * of 
Brodcfield Association, Samuel Steams* 
and Joseph Chickering, of Andover As- 
sociation, and Samuel Worcester ^ of Sa- 
lem Ministerial Conference, a body in 

1 Joseph Pops wm bora in Brooklyn, Ct, in 1746 ; 
grad. H. 0. 1770 ; was settled in Spencer, Ms., Oct. 
90, 1778, and continiied *' a reepectable and nsefbl 
mlnlMar, vnfiU Nor. 1818, when he was wiaed with a 
paimlTiia, after which he torriTed more than Mten 
jMii asabte to perform anjr ofBldal dntief " He died 
Ifareh8,1826. 

S ZspSAinAH 8. Moout, D. D., alterwarda Profoa* 
•or of LaDgaagae in Dartmouth College, atill later 
Piwktoat of Williama Collage, and sobieqaently, 
Preiidamt of Amherst College, was at this time pastor 
of tha Chnoh in Leieester, wtiere ha was ordained 
JaiM 10, 1798. Bom in Palmer, Me., Nby. 20, 1770, 
died ivam 26, 1828. 

• Bamusl BnASiTi was Minister of Bedford. Son 
of Her. Jodah Stearns, of Bpping, N. H., be was 
born April 8, 1770 ; grad. H. C, 17M ; studied The- 
ologf vader tha eare of Bev. Jonathan Freneh, of 
ktuknn^mhtim daughter Abigail Iw married ;) was 
1 ordatoad in J gradtorjl , April 27, 1796, and continued 
the p alo r , with groat lUthftilnes and success, untfl 
Us death. Dee. 28, 1884. Rev. Dr. W. A. Stearns, 
Preridsiit (tf Amherst College, ii his son. 

4 Samitsl Wobojbibb, D.D., was then of Salem. 
f o wto a t in etiry good work,— Uie Goneral Assoela- 
tfton vara fortunate in obti^ning his support. Born 
la HoUis, N. H., Not. 1, 1770; grad. Dartmouth, 1795 ; 
WIS ordained at fltehburg, Ms., Sept. 27, 1797 ; was 
iHtmisisd Sept. 8, 1802 ; was installed pastor of the 
Sibeniaela ChnzcJi, Salem, April 20, 1808 ; and died 
y at Bndaaid. Tenn., June 7, 1821. Full and interest- 
ing detstls <rf this good and eminent man are pre- 
svTod in fha ttfo of Dr. Wocetstsr, bj his son. Bar. 



which the Orthordox portion ci the min- 
isters k£ that vicinity had the preponder^ 
ance, but which never joined the General 
Association, and which disbanded when 
the opposite majority in the Salem Asso- 
ciation was reversed by gradual acces- 
sions. Rev. Joseph Lee presided at thk 
session ; Rev. Alvan Hyde was Scribe, 
and Rev. Asahel Huntington* preached 
the public lecture, from Acts, ii : 42 : 
**And they continued steadfast in the 
Apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in 
breaking of bread and prayer." Steps 
were taken to form a connection with the 
General Association of Connecticut, by 
sending Drs. Lyman and Austin as dele- 
gates to that body. Several Associations 
from the eastern part of the State hav- 
ing now been induced to come in, the ses- 
sion of 1809 was held at Newburyport, 
June 28, at the house of Rev. Dr. Spring, 
to which, other eastern Associations sent 
delegates simply to obtain information; 
these were Salem, Salem Ministerial Con- 
ference, and Cambridge ; the latter two 
never united with this body ; the fonner 
one did at the next session. Dr. Lyman 
was moderator, Leonard Woods, Scribe, 
and Dr. Austin preached the sermon. At 
this session two delegates appeared from 
Connecticut and articles of correspond- 
ence agreed upon, which are still in force, 
with the exception of that proviso wUch 
gave the delegates the right of voting in 
the body to whicb they were sent Rules 
were also adopted regulating the annual 
meeting of the Association. And it is a 
fact worthy of note, that while slight mod- 
ifications have from time to time been 
made in the language or purport of the 
Rules, to put them in better working or^ 
der, no changes have thus far been made 
affecting the purposes, plans, or general 

Samuel M. Woreester, DJ>.; a woric which is one of 
the richest oontribntlons to our eeoleasistieal history. 
6 Abahil HunnifOTOir was bom in Franklin, Ct., 
Maioh 17, 1761 ; grad. Dart. 1786 ; ordafaied in Tops- 
fleld, Ms., Not. 12, 1788 ; died AprU 22, 181& '* A 
suoeessfbl and useful ministry." ** Discriminating 
and fkithful.** XUsha Huntington, M.D., of Lowell, 
and Asahel Huntington, Siq., of Salem, are sons. 



46 



The Ma89achusM9 General Auoeiation. 



[Jan. 



characteristics of this body ; for substance, 
the existing rules are but the deyelope* 
ment of the plans made half a century 
ago. The next year, 1819, the Associa- 
tion met at Bradford, June 27. Han^)- 
shire South (afterwards Hampden and 
Aow the two Hampdens,) and Salem, 
(now^ Essex South,) appear for the first 
time. This meeting was also noted for 
two matters of importance; one, the 
change from the original article which 
had read that the doctrines of the Cate- 
chism '^ be considered as the baas of the 
union of our churches," to phraseology 
which dropped allusion to the chtircheM 
and thus no longer appeared to represent 
or control what had no connection what- 
OTer with the General Association, which 
being exclusiyely a clerical body and rep- 
resenting exclusively clerical bodies, had 
nothing to do with the churches; this 
however, did not pass without a good deal 
of debate, although approved by the dis- 
trict Associations. The second important 
event at this session was one which al- 
though somewhat transcending the de- 
clared purposes of the General Associa- 
tion, was yet a blessed one for the world, 
the organization of the American Board 
of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. 

The record in relation to the latter 
matter reads thus: "Messrs. Adoniram 
Judson, Jr., Samuel Nott, Jr., Samuel 
J. Mills, and Samuel Newell, members 
of the Divinity College, [L e., Andover 
Theological Seminary,] were introduced 
and presented a paper with their names 
subscribed, on the subject of a mission to 
the heathen. Ailer hearing the young 
gentlemen, the business was committed to 
tiie Rev. Messrs. Spring, Worcester, and 
Hale ; who reported resolves for institut- 
ing a Board of Commissioners of Foreign 
Missions, to consist of nine members, all 
in the first instance to be chosen by the 
General Association, and afterwards an- 
nually, five of them by this body and four 
by the Greneral Association of Connecti- 
cut 

" The Report was unanimously accept- 



ed. The G^eral Association proceeded to 
institute a Board of CommissioiierB, and 
made choice of the following gentlemen as 
members :^ His Excellency, John Tread- 
well, Esq., Rev. Dr. Timothy Dwight, 
Gen. Jedediah Huntington, and Rev. 
Calvin Chapin, of Connecticut ; Rev. Dr. 
Joseph Lyman, Rev. Dr. Samuel Spring, 
Wm. BarUett, Esq., Rev. Samuel Worces- 
ter, and Dea. Samuel H. Walley, of Mas- 
sachusetts. Measures were provided for 
calling the first meeting of the Board." 

So simple and unpretending is the 
record of the foundation of a Society 
which has done more to honor the Ameri- 
can name than any other instrumentality, 
and which is sdU more precious to Ameri- 
can Christians in that its hundreds of 
laborers are carrying the light of the Gos- 
pel of Christ to the darkened nations of 
the earth, in that it was the pioneer of 
American Missions, and in that it has not 
turned aade, for its life of near half a 
century, from the simple purpose of 
preaching the Grospel to a dying world. 

It is a matter of interest to know who 
were present at that session. They were 
Levi White ^ and Nathaniel Turner,' from 
Berkshire ; Benj. R. Woodbridge,* feosa 
Mountain ; John Emerson,* from Northern 

1 LiTX Whtti wm bom in Bandolph, Ml. ; wm 
gndiuted at Dartmouth, 1796; 8ta(Ued thedogj 
with Dr. Barton, of Thetford, Yt. ; wm ordained 
OTer the Ghansh in Sandiafield, Ms., Jane 28, 1796; 
WM iHirmiMti March 7, 1882, and ranoTod to Ifieh- 
igan. 

8 NATHAvm. TuRHBB WM bom in Norlblk, Ct., 
in 1771; gnd. Williama, 1798; itodied theology 
with Dr. Gatlin ; wm ordained OTer the Ghareh in 
New Marlboro, Ms., July 10, 1799, and died Mi^ 26, 
1812. 

8 BxNJ. R. WooDBixDQi WM bom in South Had- 
lej, 1774 ; giad. Dartmouth, 1796 ; wm ordained orer 
the Church in Norwich, Ms., Oct. 17, 1799 ; resigned 
June 28, 1881, and returned to Bouth Hadley, and 
died in 1844. 

4 JoHH Bkbuov, son of Ber. Joseph Smenon, 
WM bom in Maiden, Not. 20, 1745 ; grad. H. C, 
1764 ; WM ordained at Conway, Ms., Dec. 21, 1769. 
and died June 26, 1826. Mr. Bmerson remarked, in 
later years, that when he went to preach in Conway, 
" it WM literally * John preaching in the wilder- 
ne«;*" 680 persons were admitted to the Church 
during his pastorate, and 1,087 of his people were 
buied; he had composed 8,600 sermons, and bap- 



1869.] 



The Mu»adku$elf$ General 



47 



\ 



Hampehire; Rufbf Wellf and l^nsoii 
Goold,^ from Central Hampebire; John 
Keep,* finom Sontfaem Hampshire ; ThoB. 
Snell,* from Brookfield ; l^tiu T. Baiv 
ton,* and Joaepli Goffe/ firom Worcester 
Sootii; Hnmphref C. Perley * and Sam- 
nel Mead,^ fVom Haverhill; Ebenezer 



tiaid 1,119 aliOdzcn. " He wm « fUthftd And «f«a- 
filkal pflMfltbar," and devotedly pnyeiftiL 

1 Tmov GevUD me boim hi ShevoBt 01., in 
ini; gnd. WIUkiBe,1797; efeadSed tbeolefj wUh 
Dr. BMkne, of Soumxi ; vae Talor in WUliemi Ool- 
kfe Atom 1790 to 1801 ; ordained over the Ghoreh in 
flomhnmptoa, Mi^ Ang. 97, 1801 ; dlsmlMed Jen. 5, 
18B; HM liMtalled flat peetor of tbe Txtnlterien 
Gtanh In Benwrdeton, (n eeeeerion fkom tbe old 
GiinMb,) Oet 80, 1888} leeigned Dee. 21, 1886, end 
NBOfved to Bentliempton, end died in 1841. 

S Jom KivtMeminieMratBlendlbrd; born In 
TnigMiair-. Tff- . 1781; gied. Tele, 1802; itadM 
theolocj vith Ber. Aeehel Hooker, of Goeben, Ot.; 
mm ordained in 1806 ; be iree efterwerde aettled at 
r, v. T. ; me Babeeqoently efent of Am. Idn- 
'; tMe aeMled M peetor of a ProebTto- 
itan Cfaneb In Ctowlettd, Ohio, Mau 1, 1886. 

• TmfmAB Bnu, D. D., a natiTe of Chninmington, 
gied. Dnrtanoofb, 1796; me ordained at North 
June 27, 1798, wban be atlU remelM, ae 
He wee tbe aeeond Seo- 



ntei7 of tbe AwoolaHon, enoeeeding Bev. Xnoeh 
Hele in 1821, end aerrlng ftnrr«enty-flTe7eexB,when, 
In UBOi, be deeHned a re-^eetion, end reeeiTed the 
theBkeertbebodjIbrbie ftJihAUierTloei. He re- 
eitved Ibe degree ot D.D. ftom Amberrt Oollege in 

4 nm T. Basiov was bom In Granbj, Ms., In 
1791; gnd. Derteontb, 1790; ordained aa eoUeegoe 
Ibe Chnieh in T^ksbnxy, Ms., Get. 11, 1792; 
Mej 19, 1808 ; inetelled at Fitcbbnrg, 
i U, 1804 ; neigned Ibb. 28, 1818 ; remoTed to 
Oterlon Go., Tenn. ; pneebed oeeeslonnllj ; 
,lntliee«tainnofl827, with tbe design of 
settftaf tai JndcHm, HI., bnt died very suddenly, on 
tabjowii^, Oet 81, 1827, shortly efter orossing the 
OUofllfwr. 

ft (Tim IB 8om was bom in Bedfrrd, N. H., In 
1797 ; gnd. Onrtnonth, 1791 ; was ordained over the 
Obnnb in MUlbnry, Ms., Sept. 10, 1794, reeigned 
Dse. 8^ 1880; l e mo ie d to Boeton ft>r eome yeere, and 
ttaa ntaned to UiUboiy, and died in 1846. 

• HoiiraiR 0. 'BMMLTt wee bom in Bozlbrd, Ms., 
Dse. H, 1781 ; grad. Dartmonth, 1791 ; ordained OTer 
tbe lal Ghareb in Methnen, Dee. 2, 1796 ; neigned 
Hay 2ii 181ft; was Instolled over tbe 2d Chnreb tai 
leiiriJiSM.2,1818; resigned June 18, 1821; be 
died in 1888. 

V f^foaL MiAS was bom in Boehester, Ms., Dee. 
n^ IIW; gnd. Brofwn, 1788; studied theology with 
Imt. ^pbnin Jndaoa, of Cannton ; ordained over 
fteSd Obndi la Daavers, (now the Chnreb in Sonth 
Oanvan,) Jan. 8^ 1794; resigned Jan. 1808 ; was in- 
liillid owmt Ihn Sd Ohanb In Amaebury, June 6, 



Dutch* and Thomas BxAt, from Essex 
Middle; Manasseh Cntler* and Samuel 
Worcester from Salem; Salmon Cone 
and Evan Johns, from Connecticnt; 
Enoch Hale, as Secretary, and Jonathan 
AUen,^ minister of the Parish ; Rev. Sam- 
nel Spring, D.D., Dr. Pearson, " late Pro- 
fessor," and Rev. Messrs. Morrison and 
Dana, Presbyterians, were made honor- 
ary members. 

Of this number it is easy to perceive 
who were governing spirits. While the 
missionary purpose originated in other 
minds, the plan adopted by the General 
Association seems to have a clear parent- 
age. << On the 25th of June, 1810," says 
Dr. Worcester, *< serious deliberation, at- 
tended with fervent prayer, was held at 
Andover, relative to the burning desire of 
three or four theological students there, to 
be employed as missionaries to the hea- 
then. The result was, to refer the mo- 
mentous question to the Grenend Associa- 
tion of Massachusetts. The next day, 
Dr. Spring took a seat in my chaise, and 
rode with me to Bradford, where the Gen- 
eral Association was to convene. In the 
conversation on the way, the first idea, I 
believe, of the American Board of Com- 
missioners for Foreign Missions was sug- 
gested ; — the form, the number of memr 



1804, and died March 28, 1818, *<at Cambridge, 
where he was a patient, afflicted with insanity." 

8 Bbkhiub Duron was bom In Ipswich, Ms., In 
1751 ; grad. Brown, 1776 ; was ordained over tbe 2d 
Chnreb In Bradford, (now Dr. Perry's in Greireland,) 
Not. 17, 1779, and died Aug. 4, 1818. 

9 MARiUMXH CuTLim, L.L.D., was minister at Ham- 
ilton (then Ipewieh Hamlet.) Bom In Killingly, Ot., 
Bfey 28, 1742 ; grad Tale, 1766 ; was admitted to the 
bar, but by and by determined to study theology ; 
was ordained at Hamilton, Sept. 11, 1771 ; was Chap- 
lain in the Berolotionary army through two eam- 
paigns ; was ofEsred, by Wesbington, n eonunisslon 
BS Judge of the U. S. Court Ibr N. W. Territory, but 
declined ; was elected to Congrees in 18(X), and again 
in 1802 ; L.L.D., Tale, 1789 ; member of Aosd. of 
Arte and Seienoee, of the PbilompbSeal Society, Phil- 
adelphia, and of Tarioofl other literary sodetiee. He 
died July 28, 1828.— (See Sprague's Annals.) 

10 JoHATHAir Alum was bom in Bralntree, Ms., 
was graduated at Hanrard, 1774 ; etndied theology 
with Ber. Bphraim Jndson, of Tannton ; was or- 
dained oyer the 1st Church in Bradibrd, June 8, 
1781; died March 6, 1827. 



48 



The Massachusdts General Aseoeiaium. 



[Jan. 



bere, and the name, were proposed. On 
the 27th, the question came before the 
Association, and the report of the Com- 
mittee, which was adopted by that body, 
was the substance of the result of the con- 
versation in the chaise." (Life, 11: 106.) 
Messrs. Spring, Worcester and Hale were 
the Conmiittee alluded to. 

Doubtless the members of the body at 
that session hardly knew the importance 
of the step which was then taken, eyen 
for its members. Its tendency was to 
bring the Greneral Association into notice 
as an active force for the promotion of re- 
ligion. Hitherto it had struggled for ex- 
istence. From this time it became more 
prominent The friends of orthodoxy 
recognized the men engaged in it, and 
soon came to regard it as a centre of 
union. One by one all the outside Asso- 
ciations which held orthodox views, came 
into union with it ; Union (now Norfolk) 
in 1811; Unity (now extinct) in 1816; 
Old Colony in 1820; l/Von;ester North in 
1821 ; Andover (the former Wilmington,) 
Barnstable (now divided into Brewster 
and Vineyard Sound,) and Suffolk (now 
Suffolk North and Suffolk South,) in 
182S; Worcester Central in 1825; Har- 
mony in 1826; Taunton in 1827; Mid- 
dlesex Union in 1828 ; Middlesex South, 
and Pilgrim in 1830; Wobum in 1885; 
Mendon, after a long and stubborn refu- 
sal, in 1841 ; Hampshire East in 1842 ; 
Bridgewater in 1850 ; and Salem in 1851; 
while there has gone out of it, Westmin- 
ster, now a Unitarian body under the 
name of Worcester West ; and in 1858, 
Bridgewater and Pilgrim united in one 
to appear under the venerable name of 
Plymouth. The last of the old orthodox 
Associations to come in, was Mendon. It 
had refused in 1808, in 1804, and 1807; 
there the matter rested until 1841, when 
a vote of imion was passed. The prin- 
ciple reason for this long delay was defer- 
ence to Dr. Emmons, whose sentiment 
was, ** AsBociationism leads to Consocia- 
tionism ; Consociationism leads to Presby- 
terianism ; Presby terianism leads to Epis- 



copacy; Episcopacy leads to Roman Cfr- 
iholicism; and Roman Catholicism is an 
ultmiate fact" 

The ^tiosi-eccledastical relations of the 
General Association with other bodies, 
were gradually perfected. In 1809, it 
entered into "correspondence," exchang- 
ing delegates with the General Associa- 
tions of Connecticut and New Hampshire ; 
in 1811, the General Assembly of the 
Presbyterian Church, continuing the cor- 
respondence with both branches, after the 
disruption of that body, until 1856, when 
that with the Old School body was drop- 
ped by mutual consent ; in 1812, the Gen- 
eral Convention of Vermont; in 1821, 
the Evangelical Consociation of Rhode 
Island; in 1885, the General Association 
of New York; in 1848, the General As- 
sociation of Michigan; in 1844, the Con- 
gregational Union of England and Wales; 
in 1845, the Greneral Convention of Wis- 
conan, and the Congregational Union of 
Canada East (now Canada;) in 1846, 
the Greneral Association of Iowa; in 
1849, the Association of Oregon, after- 
wards the General Association of Oregon 
and California, mnce 1856 divided into 
two General Associations; in 1855, the 
Greneral Conference of Ohio; in 1857, 
the Greneral Associations of Kansas and 
Minnesota; in 1858, the Congregational 
Association of Nebraska. 

In addition to the foregoing relatiooa, 
there was broached, in 1818, a project to 
unite all the General Associations of 
New England by means of a " Committee 
of Union" into one general organization. 
This plan originated with the General 
Association of Connecticut Drs. Wor- 
cester and Hyde, and Rev. Thomas Snell, 
were deputed by the Greneral Association 
to meet delegates from the other bodies at 
Northampton, Oct S, 1818 ; they reported 
the next year in favor of the plan, and 
that a ^ Committee of Union" meet an- 
nually on the 8d Wednesday of Ocfober. 
This report was adopted. The new or- 
ganization had its first session at the house 
of Rev. Abel Flint, D. D., Hartford ; it 



1859.] 



The MmaekmetU Cfaural AuomHcnC 



49 



\ 



I 



compoeed of Dn. Flint and L3rman 
Beecher for Connecticut, and Dr. Hyde 
and Rev. Mr. Snell for Massachusetts ; it 
appeared that New Hampshire and Ver- 
mont declined the union, but the body 
proceeded to business; Dr. Hyde was 
chairman and Dr. Flint, Scribe ; Dr. 
Hyde preached ; a two days' session was 
held; Dr. Beecher was appointed to 
preach at the session of the next year ; 
bat in 1821, the <« Committee of Union" 
recommended its own dissolution; the 
recommendation was adopted, and the 
praject, soon generally forgotten, but 
iHiieh, had it succeeded would have 
eventially united all our Congregational 
Associatioiis into one compact body and 
changed our whole, polity, came to an un- 
regretted end. 

So, also, did another ecclemastical pro- 
ject expire in its birth, but not without 
crippling the General Association itself. 
It oame np in the shape of appointing 
a committee, in 1814, to examine *^into 
die hiatoiy oT* **an ancient document" 
fimnd among the papers of Cotton Math- 
er, which contains an ** answer to the 
question, what further steps are to be ta- 
ken that councils may have due constitu- 
tioQ and efficacy ;" the Committee were 
also to eonsider ** the expediency of a re- 
commendation by this body of the plan 
of discipline there proposed." **ReY. Jed- 
ediah Morse, D.D., Rev. Samuel Austin, 
DJ>., Rer. Leonard Woods, D.D., Rev. 
Samuel Worcester, D.D., Rev. Enoch 
Hale, Bev. Joseph Lyman, D.D., and the 
Ber. Timothy M. Cooley" were the Com- 
mitlee ; they reported in an elaborate pa- 
per, in 1815, not recommending the pro- 
posalt (which are the same as printed in 
Wise'e Churches' Quarrel Espoused,) but 
prapomg the establishment of Consocia- 
tioos. The General Association, after full 
diseosrion ordered the reports to be print- 
ed for public infitrmation, and the subject 
to be eaDed up at the next session. It 
was dooe; and aldiough the evils grow- 
ing out of the disjmnted fellowship of the 
dmidMe in that time of doctrinal tribula- 



tion had doubtless suggested the plan, 
yet in 1816, all this body dared to do 
was to say that ^they believe that the 
Report. . . .accords in its general princi- 
ples, with the examples and precepts of 
the New Testament" and that they had 
no objection to the organization of the 
Consociations wherever the ministers and 
churches were inclined that way; and 
even this qualified approbation lost sev- 
eral Associations and gave countenance 
to the assertions of those who looked upon 
that body as covertly intending a system 
of ecclesiastical jurisdiction. Of the for- 
midable powers sought to be conferred on 
Consociations, of the steadfastness with 
which the churches resisted the usurpa- 
tion, and of the cotemporary literature 
thereby brought out, (some of which is in 
the writer's possession,) a further account 
may be given at a future period. 

Another work of the General Associa- 
tion was the organization of the Domestic 
Missionary Society. This, organized in 
1818, was the result of the struggle of the 
evangelical churches for existence. « The 
General Association organized that body, 
with a constitution providing that it be 
constituted of the General Association, and 
of other members by subscription or elec- 
tion, — the Moderator and Scribe of the 
latter to hold the same position in the 
former, and that its object be confined to 
Massachusetts Proper.^ There was al- 
ready a Society, the " Massachusetts Mis- 
sionary Society," in existence ; but by its 
charter, it could disburse no funds in this 
State ; hence the necessity of a Society 
attending to waste places at home — a 
work which is now properly denumding 
still greater attention than it has receiv- 
ed. The new body and the old Society 
united (by legal permission,) in 1827, 
when it was agreed that the united organ- 
ization should be represented by two del- 
egates in the General Association. 

The meetings, temporary affairs, and 
preachers of the Grcneral Association at 
its various sessions, have been as follows : 

1 ^ MaMaohaaetli Proper" mwexcliulTeof Main*. 



60 



The MasBoehusetts General Association. 



[Jan. 



GQ 
PS 
H 
« 

< 

H 
PS 



H 

O 



o 

H 
O 

o 

QQ 
GQ 

< 

< 
PS 

pq 

o 



GQ 

H 
H 
pq 

GQ 

P 

GQ 



» 
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P4 

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CQ 

O 

GQ 
GQ 

N 

QQ 

P 



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III 



•a f** -s."" 1 . w .« ^ " 



"■ fi 







2 - - - 



5 • 



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GQ 

a 
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J S3 s ft 





■3l|illllg| "^1:^11^^11 III 



I 



eo 



kO CO »^ 



eoeoeoaoeocoooaoaoeoaoeoaoeoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoao 



1859.] 



The Massachusetts General Association. 



61 









f 1 









§ J r3 f^ ^ _? • 



1° 



? 








isiiiiiiiiiiiiii 

fleaD«OCDC040OD4DODOD00000000000O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O00a00OODa0a0 



52 



The Mmachusetts General Aasociatian. 



[Jah. 



The standing offices of the General As- 
sociation are, that of Secretary (including 
Treasurership,) who preserves the records 
and documents; and Statistical Secretary, 
the latter having exclusive charge of the 
annual collection and publishing of the 
statistics of the churches; the term of 
office of each is three years. The Mode- 
rator, Scribe, and Assistant Scribe, are 
chosen only for one session. 

The standing offices have been filled 
as follows : 

Seoretart. 

Enoch Hauc,^ Westhampton, I894 — 
1824. 

Thomas Snbll, D. D.,* North Brook- 
field, 1824—1850. 

Emerson Davis, ■ D. D., Westfield, 
1860—1858. 

Alonzo H. Quint, Jamaica Plain, 
1868— 

Each of the past Secretaries left office 
by declining a re-election. 

Statistical Secretary. 
Alonzo H. Quint, Jamaica Plain, 
1856— 

It were useless to detail the transac- 
tions of the General Association year by 
year. It has met fifty-six times, in Chris- 
tian brotherhood, for the well-being of the 
Cause ; has had its sermons, its prayers, 
and its conferences, which have left their 
mark on the piety of the day. In addi- 
tion to these — the most valuable of its ex- 
ercises — ^and to its prominent operations 
already noticed, the General Association 

1 Bhogb Halb, is notlo«d on page 89, and Dr. 
Sum*, on page 47. 

a EitBSSOK Datis, D. D. wm born in Ware, Mb., 
Joly 16, 1798 ; grad. Williams, 1821 ; stadisd thaologj 
with Dr. Oriffln, vhilo perfbming the duties of Tutor 
in WiHiams Oollegs; was Uosnsed to preaoh by tho 
BoriuUre Assodalion, Feb. 1834 ; was preoeptot of 
Westfield Academy untU Vsb. 1886 ; was ordained 
pastor of the Ist ohureh in Westfield, June 1, 1886, 
which position lie still occupies ; receired the degree 
of D.D., fh>m Haryard Collefs, in 1847. Dr. Davis was 
appointed a member of the Massachusetts Board of 
Education at its establishment in 1886, and went out 
in two years by the expiration of his term ; he was 
reappointed in 1848 and served the ftUl term of eight 
yean. He has been one of the Trustees of Williams 
GoUsgs,siiioal8a8. 



has vigorously and perseveringly *< re- 
solved " on the main moral questions of 
current interest : 

On African Education, in 1824 and 
'31 ; on the A. B. C. F. M., in its com- 
mencement, and repeatedly afterwards; 
on Bible distribution, in 1829, '80, '32 '34, 
'40, '42, and '47; on Biblical knowledge 
and Sabbath School interests, in 1817, '19, 
'24, '27, '80, '31, '34, '37, '42, '44, '45, and 
'51 ; on Charity (religious,) in 1821, '51, 
'52 and '56 ; on Colonization (Afiican,) 
1819, '24, '29, '30, '32, '36, and '47 ; on 
Common Schools, in 1849 ; on Education 
Societies, in 1833, '35, and '51 ; on Home 
Missions, in 1829, '32, '33, '87, '39, '65, 
'57, and '58 ; on Infant Baptism, in 1853, 
'55, and '57 ; on Itinerant Evangelists, in 
1836; Ministerial Charges, in 1852 and 
'53 ; on Moral Reform in 1833 ; on Na- 
tional Congregational Convention in 1852; 
on Peace in 1835, '36, '42, '46, '47, and 
'53 ; on Popery, in 1834 and '42 ; on 
Psalmody, in 1820, '45, '46, '56, and '57; 
on the Sabbath, in 1815-'17, '24, '25, '28, 
•30, '81, '33, '89, '41-'43, '48, and '53 ; on 
the Seamen's Cause, in 1831, '32, and 
'37; on Slavery, in 1834, '87, and in 
every year from 1841 to 1858, excepting 
1844 and 1852 ; on Temperance, in 1813, 
'27, '30— '33, '34, '85, '41, '42, '47, '52, '57, 
and '58 ; on Tobacco, in 1833 ; on Tract 
operations, in 1816, '34, '36 and '58 ; on 
Western Education, in 1831, '85, '45, and . 
'58. It commended Amherst Collie in 
1842; Granville Female Seminary in 
1836, and Mt Holyoke in 1835 ; Williams 
Collie in 1842 ; the Boston Recorder in 
1834 ; the Christian Alliance in 1845 and 
'48 ; the Congregational Library Associa- 
tion in 1853, '54, and '57 ; tho Hartford 
Deaf and Dumb Asylum in 1818; the 
Doctrinal Book and Tract Society (now 
Congregational Board of Publication,) in 
1851 and '53 ; the Foreign Evangelical 
Society in 1888, '39, '43, '44, '47 and 
'48; a Southern Theological Seminary; 
Wilbur's New Testament in 1824; and 
has attended to the wants of Ireland 
(1848,) the Jews, (1846,) Nebraska 



1859.] A Lemn from He Pad. 53 

(1854,) and Sjuisas (1855.) If^ how- annoallj, in each Anociation in torn ; it 
•Ter, an J one fdahes to trace these yari- is an ezcliuively clerical body, composed 
lioQS resolations, he will encounter the of two delegates fipom each of twenty- 
obstacle axifflng fiom the iact that the seyen district Associations, the Secretary, 
earliest records exist only in a com- the Statistical Secretary, the clergyman 
pilalkm made in 1816, and that no com- of the place of meeting, and two delo- 
plete set of the annual publications of this gates from the Massachusetts Home Mis- 
body is known to exist sionary Society ; in addition, the preach- 
^ Statistics have also been prominent in ers of the two sermons, the chairmen of 
the action of the Greneral Association, all Committees attending to report, the 
The first published bear date of 1819, delegates from corresponding bodies, and 
thon^ signs of their appearance had been the delegates of the preceding year to 
threatening fiaar several years. They have corresponding bodies, are admitted as 
been cootinned since, forlorn in their ap- honorary members. The services include 
pearance, deceptive in their statements, a sermon on ^ome Missions, another 
and accompanied by melancholy com- called the Associational, a service for the 
plaints, until, in 1856, a new system was benefit of the people of the place, a dis- 
inaugorated, a statistical office established, cussion on questions previously published, 
and entire success accomplished. salutations of delegates, reports from its 
As now constituted, the (xeneral Asso- own delegates, the Lord's Supper, necessa- 
dalioo meets on the 4th Tuesday of June ry business ; and cover parts of three days. 



■-•- 



A LESSON FROM THE PAST : 

EARLY METHODS OF CHURCH-EXTENSION. 

BT BEY. J. 8. CLARK. 

Whsthsb we regard this nation of Society have doubled during the last 

ours by itself, as destined soon to have on twenty-five years, and the funds expend- 

its soil a hundred million souls in a course ed for their support have trebled, (the 

of training fixr eternity, or whether we same is also true of other Boards,) there 

look at the influence which these are des- probably were never so many unanswered 

tined to exert on the thousand millions calls for home missionary help as at the 

who people the globe, we can hardly ex- present moment The tide of immign^ 

aggerate the importance of its thorough and tion from the old world to the new, which 

speedy evangelization. Nor can we doubt at the opening of this century brought 

that the responsilHlity of its accomplish seven thousand foreigners to our shores 

ment is devolved mainly on such agents per annum, now brings half a million. 

and agencies as may here be found. This The dispersion of our native population 

is so well understood that no body on into void wastes is adding to the field of 

earth, but the Pope, will ever think of Home Missions a breadth of destitution 

ni^ying our ^ lack of service" in this equal to about one new State a year, 

department And still more startling is the increasing 

And yet there is confessedly a lack of demand for help that just now comes from 

service. The supply is disproportioned all parts of New England, where it was 

to the demand ; and this disproportion, fondly hoped that the necessity for such 

instead of lessening, is every day increas- helps was growing less and would soon 

ing. Notwithstanding the laborers sent cease altogether. These tokens and tes- 

finrth by the American Home Missionary timonies challenge our profoundest at- 



54 



A Lesson from the Pad. 



[Jak. 



tention. And they are receiving it. 
Thoughtfiil minds are everjrwhere asking, 
What shall be done ? Earnest and en- 
terprising men are suggesting theories 
witii a Tiew t^ meet these seen and felt 
necessities. Conventions and Associa- 
tions of ministers, and Conferences of 
churches are appointing Committees, and 
passing resolutions, and proposing meas- 
ures with reference to the same subject 
These indications of a wide-spread want, 
are also the ogns of coming relie£ 
Such endeavors, so combined, can hardly 
fail of bringing some good result, if pur- 
sued with discretion, and in the light 
which experience has shed on the sub- 
ject 

Without meaning to divert attention, 
for a single moment, &om our present 
eleemo83mary system of Home Missions, 
but rather with the hope of increasing its 
efficiency, by restoring certain elements 
of power which appear to have dropped 
out, it is proposed, in this article, to set 
forth the early methods of Church Exten- 
sion in New England, and the success 
which attended them. 

The first idea of their vocation as 
Church-extefisionists, or propagators of 
Christianity, seems to have dawned upon 
John Robinson and his flock, in Holland, 
and is recorded thus among their reasons 
for removing to America : — ** Fifthly, and 
lastly, and which was not the least, a great 
hope and inward zeal they had of laying 
some good foundation, or at least to make 
some way thereunto for the propagating 
and advancement of the Gospel of the 
kingdom of Christ; yea, although they 
should be but as stepping-stones unto oth- 
ers for the performance of so great a 
work." (Morton's Mem., ed. 1855, p. 12.) 
Previously to this epoch in their pilgrim- 
age, their own preservation, as a witness- 
ing Church, was all that they had aimed 
at, or even dared to hope for. 

The first /orm which this new idea took 
in its practical development on these 
shores, was the colonization of churches — 
dismissing members from one particular 



communion to constitute another, in some 
new settlement, too far off to permit their 
habitual attendance at the old place of 
worship. The sacrifice to which bodi 
parties often submitted, can hardly be ap- 
preciated in our day. That fiuthftil 
chronicler of the Plymouth Church, Na- 
thaniel Morton, in recording its third 
depletion by this process, sorrowfully 
adds : ^ Thus was this poor Church like 
an ancient mother, grown old and for- 
saken of her children, (though not in their 
affections yet,) in regard to their bodily 
presence and personal helpfulness. Thus 
she that had made many rich, became 
herself poor." (Plym. Church Rec.) Still 
heavier were the burdens which fell on 
those who withdrew. Cases are reported 
of meeting-houses, built in some of these 
first settled towns, when the entire popu- 
lation could sit together on the sills at 
" the raifflng ; " and of parishes support- 
ing Udo ministers on a valuation of prop- 
erty which would now be deemed inade- 
quate to support one without misaionaiy 
aid. Instead of certifying their need of 
such aid, as in similar cases would be the 
first thing done in our day, it behooved 
these withdrawing members to show that 
they could support the Gospel themselves, 
and were ready to do it ; for the Fathers 
of the Commonwealth had no idea of per- 
mitting a plantation to grow up under 
their jurisdiction, without ** an able ortho- 
dox ministry ; " as also the planters them- 
selves had no wish to attempt any such 
thing. The proprietorship of all the early 
towns was granted, and the grant accept- 
ed, on condition that ** such a company 
might be received as should maintain the 
public worship of God among them." It 
was this requisition which determined the 
territorial size of the town. It must be 
large enough to sustain a population ade- 
quate to support a minister, and not too 
large for them all to meet in one place of 
worship on the Sabbath — an historical 
fact, by the way, explmning the origin of 
these ** little republics," as they have been 
called, which cover the entire face of New 



THE 



(S^m^tt^ntwml 




I i» I 



This new «aiidicUite for pubKc Uiror was started in January last, without a single pledged 
subscriber, ;n the conviction that a felt need existed for just such a Journal ajs it wajs^- 
signed-to be, and that the Public, and the Congregational denominiition, especially, wotiM 
sustain it. It was thought by its projectors, that a Quarterly which should confine lt4f$K 
strictly, though not bigotedly, to the literature, principles, history, statistics, neoessitiM, 
•ioM ^nd hopes of the denomination now representing our Pilgrim Fathers all over this OQnr 
tinept, and which should so concentrate within its pages that which every intelligent Congrv- 
gationaKat desires and needs to know, might not merely Und support, but might hope to do 
much good — ^in disseminating needed information; in reviving the memory of the virtues of 
the fathers, )ind advocating again the principles to which they gave the vigor of their lot« 
and life ; in commendihg the simple Polity of the New Testament, and of the first and second 
centuries of the Christian Church, afresh to the minds of the thinking world; in binding to- 
gether Congregationalists— East and West, North and South — by a warmer mutual interest, 
and a more cordial mutual confidence; and in indirectly advancing ** whatsoever things are 
honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, 
whatsoever things are of good report." It was, moreover, felt that a Journal which should, 
in some measure, take the place 4ilQgraphicalIy and statistically left vacant by the suspension 
of the American Quarterly Register, (files of which now command the highest price in the 
book-market,) if suited to the populair* taste, would meet with large acceptance. 

In order ^ carry out these ideas to their fullest extent, it was thought essential to put the 
price within the mea;^ of the humblest individual whose tastes, position or pursuits, might 
lead him to be interested in such a work ; and the sum of One Dollar was accordingly fixed 
upon, as being at once the lowest pos&ible amount for which the work could be done, and otie 
which would commend itas^to all interested as invitingly within their means. 

The first number was issued in January last, and the second is just out. The work has 
met with a cordial welcome from the press, and from the public. Although no agency has 
been employed, subscriptions have already come in, to a degree which indicate that it only 
needs to be generally known to gain a position of permanent prosperity. 

Among the kind notices which have been received, are the following : — 

what It pmroiFes and fbrsthadows on bshajf of ti^ 
plan on whloL it is vstablished, as JMSt tbe thii?g tm 
nafl long been needtd. It In the onfy national ana 
bruad Church Journal of tho doDQinlDa(K>n,.aD4 1g- 
nocHB all achoots and partiuit, and means ooj»n«tD«s- 
ly aud honiisUy to attain p^thet lm|H»rt)ftUiy in Its 
records and reasDDlngs. 

All will, at leatst, confess that it is a model of cheap- 
ness. One bundled and fbnr pagM with a sCwel M- 
graving, fuor tlmett repeated,— far One dollar aaraJa- 
nora, i» a phenomenon unknown bsfore. We hope H 
will alwav« be known hereafler.— Gofi^ifalieiMMfK. 



It Is eonduetsd by Revs. J. 8. Clark, D.D., H. M. 
Dszter, and A. H. Quint ; an admirable trio for the 
porpose— Dr. Clark being thoroughly vened iu the 
Ustory and literaturs or Congregationalism, Mr. Dex- 
ter an able expounder of Its prlm-iplee and working, 
and Mr. Qnlnt being the most thorough an<i philo- 
sophical statistician that the deiiominaiiOD boants. 
In historical and statistical matters this Quarterly 
will flcwke good the place of The American (^uarttrly 
RigiUer^ whikb as a popular exponent of the great 
prittdples of the Congregational faith and order. It 
win nreearve alive laoch which, through long neglect, 
wss Difglnning to perish.— /M<fepeA</fnt. 

We dUnk that this number will commend Itself to 
lbs dwiwnlDatton,— If not t>r irhat U Is in itself— for 



The new OongregatlOBal Qoarterly, ooodaoted by 
Rev. Messrs. Clark, Dexter and Quint, has mads its 
appearance. It Lb very handsomely pnatM, and e4iH 



-»«T:j^i.-r»g *^ ^ -,■.. 



talnfl matter of mach Interest to New England Bflnla- 
ten.— Boston Recorder. 

Wtarn tbe nnnouncenirnt wan made that Purh a 
Qniirterly would be isiiucd, periouR doubts arose in our 
mindK whether there wn^ a pinre and a work for it. 
A pemKiI of the ^p«rim<'n number befon* uh has re- 
moTed thOM> doubts, and cnn winced ub that it ran, 
and will live to be popular in the denoniinution, and 
to do a ffreat and good work for it. We barn no 
other periodical dl5iiir.ctiTely denoroinationHl, in 
which might appear appropriate statistics, biojfmpbf- 
cal sketches, ohituaries, and accounts of ordinations, 
Installations, remorals, dcdicationfi. church orgrtnizf 
tions aD4 histqrifs, and rerivMls, together with argu- 
ments hi defenre* and exposition of our system of 
goTsmmenl and fiiith, aiirf f ujtgei«t1onfl fur the in" 
crease and improTement of tlie churches. The Con- 
^ffiotionnl Quarterly will henceforth l)o indlHpnn- 
sable to the pastors, ofncerA and leading members, 
of our churches, as may be judged by the following 
account of tbe contents of thi^ opening number. 

Congregationtd Herald ( Ctieago.) 

Tbe first number of this new Quarterly is before 
ns, and it more than realiies our expecmtions. The 
editors, Rers. J. S. Clark, H. M. Dexter and A. If. 
Quint, in their introductory circular. «^ay that this 
number is a ^' specimen rather of good intentions 
than of anything more/' We think, however, that 
it will br received not dimply a.« a •' specimen of eood 
lot(*n(«'fhs," but akio as the bucrtrvful initiation of a 
work which should interest and receive the support 
of every lover of Oongregatlonolijm. — Me. Evangelht. 

This new-comer into the Periodical Family appears 
with a fair record, and well known spon!<on>. 

Utristian Mirror. 

The object of the work is a good one. * * * U'o 
think it will Iiave a wide circiilatiou, and do a good 
work. — Vermont Otronicle. 

TnK CoxOREQATioSAL QuARTHRLT is ft ncw periofli- 
cal pnbliea^^ion Js:iued from thet'onsrei^ntional Build- 
ing, Chauncy Street^ apd eiiifed by IIhv. McshTs*. ,1. S. 
Clark, 11. M. D«»xfer and \. II. Quint, pontlenien well 
quaiUfled by experience and vared t^ict for the task. 
The first nuuiber, though n|>ologeti<-ully beriil<J<:(l, 
is, in d»'.«>ign and execution alike, really a cnpitil one, 
abounding in Ju^t the argument, statistics and infor- 
matiou that ^o to form tbe ri^ht idc;il of such a de- 
nominational Issue. It is furnished at the low price 
of one dollar jier annum. 

{Baptist) Waichrnan and lUJltetvr. 

The first number of this new Quarrcrly has been 
laid upon our table, aod we have rc.d it vvi(h much 
interest. It-* design \* to promote tlie interests of 
CongregatioiiAllsin, and judging from this number, 
we regard it a«i admira>>ly adapted to this enil. We 
wi*h thi^ our own denomination mi$rht be stimulated 
tOft8imlIarcnterpri.se.— (Z>a/>£f A/) Chr.uian Era. 

_ We wl-ib to call spe< i.il attention to tl»e Con^uga' 
tional Quarterly • • The oljeefc proposed U cal- 
eulate^i to enlist the support of all Conpregarionalfsts, 
and the first number i.^ well pn*pared in the variety 
and style of its articles. We welcome it heartily to 
tbe fraternity of Quarterlies.— AVw Englandtr. 

The first number of this new Quarterly is a work of 
much ability. • ' Certainly without a parallel for 
oheapnt^ss among the quarterlies of America. 

R. I Schoolmaster. 

Wa are led to notice the appearance of this new 
religious Quarterly, from the fact that iu plan em- 
bmers much master cf historical value. Thu**, in 
the present number, We have a biogriphicnl skit<-h 
of the famouif Thomns Prin-e, the annalist, which 
coi.tuius many f.tots, fioui original sources, never t>e- 
fore made public. Tbe tabk-s, bbo, of iiema relative 
to. GongRMatioaal clergym?D, contain much which 
will hereafter assist the genen legist. 

N. E. Historical and Utneahgieal Register. 



I give my name and inbaerlptlonfbrtlM 0»ngngm- 
tional Quarterly^ and tend eneloaed one dollar, tbe 
pri4*e per year— too cheap If tbe anbaequent tmmben 
are made equal to the first. — Rrt>. J. Hawes^ D.D , 

llartforJy Ot. 

I enclose fiur dollars for four copiea of the Cbn- 
gregational Quarterly. The merits of the January 
numher are such as will secure, I trust, a large sub* 
scription. We have long needed Just such a pubUra- 
tion for our enlargement, and indeed, self-defence, as 
a denomination, and this number moat worthily gives 
promise of what is to come. — Rev. W. T. Dun'gkt^ 
D.D., Portion J ^ Me. 

I like the plan and the work, Mius far, vary laitth.— 
Rer. J. W. Chicktring, V.D., Jhn-Htmdi Mff. 

Please find enclosed, one dollar, my subtcrlption 
to 3 our valuable, exoellent, most desirable (and is it 
not too cheap?) publication.— /irr. N. Adams, D.D.t 
Bo.ston. 

I have examined the Congreguiionml QuoHcrfy, 
and think it a work of very great importance to tbe 
Congretta tional conUection and to the eommunirr. — 
Rev. W. A. Stearns^ D D., Prisident of Amkem 

College. 

I rej jice to see the Congregational (^utirtertf. It 
i>4 my settled rule, not to meddle at all with pnbllea* 
tions of any soit, in the way of indoelog my people 
to ttubscnlM for them, preferring to let them art 
wholly for themselves. I have, bowvTer, been to 
de>irous to have this Quar(«r/y taken, and hopeao 
mucli from it, th:it I have made an exception in Ita 
favor. 1 send, herewitti, a lint of thirteen names.— 
Rev. Ray Palmer^ D.D., Albany, iV. Y. 

Tlie objects proposed, denominationally considered, 
are appropriate and important to Congregational itta 
and to Congregationalism, as an ecclesiastical system, 
and in their promotion you will doubtleaa have tbe 
countenance of the entire denomination. — Rev. Ed- 
ward \V. ILiok'.r, D.D., Fairhacen, Yt, 

I am highly pleased with your Qnarterly^ and wish 
\nu the largest success. — K<f. 11^. l. Budtngton, 
'D.D., Biookiyn, X. Y. 

In enclosing my i^ubscription for the Congrrga- 
tional Qnmierly^ I wish t> express to' you my grati- 
fication that huch :i work is to be addei^ciur period- 
ical literature. I have always lamentra the demise 
of thf old Qwirterly Regifter. I think that several 
relit;ious periodicals, of heavier pretensions, ct>uld 
have bpc:i more eit^ly spared. I am accustomed 
still to refer to the volumes of that Quarterly fbr 
infonmitiou which, sofuiixH 1 know, it acceaaibie in 
no other ti'rm 1 very cordially welcome the appear- 
ance of iu suc<-e.osor. The histriricai and statistical 
accumulations in such a work mustaoon become in- 
valuable to Mchularly men, aud especially to thoae 
who appreciate our Congregational poiity — a polity 
which es.^entially grows out of the actual hiaiory of 
the churt-Ues, and has mor« than once been u><>difled 
by that history. Suob a work, continued through a 
quarter of a ceiiturv, miy become a more truthful 
exponent of Congregationalism as it b, than any 
mure ancient and veuentblc " Platform.*' 

Th*? Carbolic cbawcter which you propose to give 
to tbe work, is to mv mind peculiarly grtttef^l. Tliat 
this will be preserved, the character of its editorial 
triumvirate is a 8uflic;ent guarantee.— /^r. Au^in 
Fheljia, D.D.f Andover^ Ms. ^ ' . 

I heartily rejoice at this enterprise, and wiab It aU 
po>siblu huctefs. There is no set of books In mf 
library wbii-h 1 consult more frequently, or reaa 
with gre.iter relish, tbau the * Id Quarterly Regiuer* 
and any i»eriodicMt that promises to follow In' tbe 
fuot<te|*a of so iilu'trious a predecessor, will have a 
warm welcouMe at my table, and the tielp of mv aob- 
scription aa long aa I can raise tbe aanuat doutt.— 
Rev. Pliny H. WhUcy Coventry, Fi. 



I hfrtiry eominend yonr miterprlw, and wIiTfi Tft 
ttfanpluttit McfNte.. Thoiklfh not tH« only gobd 
thUtg to brmd, Iq littpging th« whoU world Into 
sunjtwdon to th« btKh«r Uw of Cbriflt, give me Con- 
grf§antmalism for the Uolted 9fales, for the Butid- 
vleb lBlaa4«, for old coimnonitiea and «e«, every- 
where and 9lwHjr9 ; luid let the principles of Despot- 
i*tii^ Utrtig/iips and Aristeetttff, be f«Vr nerki twt 
tnUiod to Vfar wUh de|i«bt Chriit'a >ok«.-^iJ«v /f. . 
Bingham, Prinnjiol nf York Square Seminary, Neio 
Hnten, Oi.^ Iforrherlif Mmionary M tkt Sanifwick 
Itionds. 

The plan of tbe Congregational Qxtnrterly hg nrxSq^xt 
and admirable. . Some eyrrenb re«;ocd of thingi« goii^ 
on In the denbmfnafion we greatly needed. Some 
vpfaiffie aim for oiakinir'the tbdiiM%Ddit of Coogrega- 
tionaliurs in the. United .Srafen aware of the richiie of 
oar LiMory and relfglOua Ifterathre, and keeping 
Mlive tftff cnmiMtion wtrh our gf ariouR Fiuil^n t^t.. 
Your Quarterly will do it. It Jh a/i./trn, I wi»h it 
the best success.— /{(rr G F. Magoun^ Ddvennorl, ' 
Iowa. ', 



I am exbeaiely pteated wieh yonr Jiirfcil tiiite^ 
and tbe plan whieh yon propo** fbr the iatwf oom- 
Un.—Hpv. S. P. Fay, Jp^ytony O. 

After sendkig you ib^ ^nolowd names and mooaj,. 
I D^l not say that I cordinlly approre of yonr «n- 
**rpri«e. Inannot dotrbt ftjr a mntaient the' ^ntfra 
AurcoM of >our ttiovement, end that your QaarUrfy 
will meet a wnnt nnd fill a Told whirh has been neg- 
lected quite ton ftifig nli^d? for the interests- of tmr 
body.— /Jrtf. T. £. -Bf«#, Biackitont. Ms, 

■1 like it mvph. - Our donoraination needs juit waxA 
^liork.— Rev. N. Gale, D.J?.^ Lee, Ms. 

I wish tOi enNramge and inipport a good, wmrll of 
thi;* kl»d, I tru^t that yo^ will t>ucreed in your 
effortH, and give us a Qwirterly worthy of Congrega- 
. tlocaitmn. May Qod direceand prosper you tar>toia 
eff«;rr, and regard ^ou for this labor of love in (he 
support of a system as old n« the First Ohurrh st 
Jenwaleni.— /<^e. C. Deuty, D,Di, Rockesttr^N. Y^ 



We might tU sheets with just such testimonials. Our brethren at the West, and on Pres- 
byterian gfbu^d generally, have hailed the appearance of the Quarterly with special joy. One 
brother write/ from Uivt^^ 'il\UA\\c rery. periodical our wants demand. I am more than de- 
lighted with it, and shall do all t can to send you subscribers." 

A Doctor of Divinity, standing high in the confidence of the churches, writes from the 
midst of a Presbyterian city : ^ ,. 



*' I have read no Periodical wUh/Vo n^rh Intenrft 
since I can remenit)er ; and it is not ea^y for any 
man to find on« Mi readable. Boob a work was 
grrpatly nee<led ; and, carried on in aco'rdnnce with 
your desi^, it will be M^cnnd in iniporranre arnJ 
value to no perio'iical in the l.ind ; and no int*'ll!geiiC 
u)ini.<(ter or laxntan, in the t'ongregafionjil roiinet-- 
rlon certainly, will fwl that he can do without ir." 

Another brother writes: 

•*All hail to the Cons;regatiannl Quarterly. A 
thoutfHud rhintcH for thn enterprise. 1 wouiti Kub- 
»cri'H* if the price w^re ten dollar?, in^re'iil of one dol- 
lar. You chilli li.iVi- uiy nione> and my |»ravrr,H 
until my purse find my hcvirf. are entirely enipf} !'' 

Another says : 

" Your f^itarter/y will be a very valuable addition 
ti> the jHfriodiciilM of the d ly ; and though my tabln 
i- constantly 1>~)h(1p1 with p«pei>Hnii paaipltlrtM. con- 
r>tirdng tbe new.n anJ the v«Hefy of d{t)(■u.«^ii>n.'< — 
p<diMc-al, moral and religiltu^• — which are constai.tly 
b*.<<uiog from thp pre«p, srill, I think th-it I cannot 
ft>rego rhtf privilegfy ot reailin,^ it.*' 

One brother sends us sixty names from a 

New Eiigland city, and says ; 

'* I obtained them all by personal application— not 
uncing it in any insttnce, tuit explaining it, and 



glviXig' the opportdndty. The iiflit comprises the elit* 
of ail our Congregational churches, and I am inclined 
to re^ittrd it as about the best day 'a work for Congre- 
vatiouaJi^ui whith has evtr t»een done in this city.*' 

Another brother writes from Pennsylvania, 

ordering the Quarterly, and adding: 

*' I want it, for, though in the Preobyterlan con- 
net'tion, I lore my nativn Church, and dearly love 
her prosperity." 

Another brother, writing from Illinois, says : 

'' We hail this Quarterly with unmingled satisfkc- 
tion. ret^urdin^ it. in tiuthast ' an indispensable ne- 
ce.-Mty ' to our denominatii n.*' 

Another brother says: 

'^ Notwith{>tanding the almost innumerable ways 
in which (loUfirs neceS'Sirily go, I f«e not how I can 
refist the ten'ptation to become a subscriber " 

Another says : 

"It did not take us long to decide that your valua- 
ble (/nraluaVilc. rather.) Magazine was an indispen- 
sable ne<ePHiry in our bou^eh(■ld. May the iNStsuc- 
c^»5? attend the new enteiprifc, and the blessing of 
fiod. the God of our fatheis aud our God, be abun- 
dantly bestowed upon jour labors." 



We have received, from one or tno sources, the suggestion that we were either wronging 
ourselves by publi.shing at a price below cost, or the proprietors of other Quarterlies are 
wronging the ptiblic by making it pay more for their Journals than they are worth. The fact 
is that this Quarterly is owned and published by its Editors, who •♦ work for nothing and find 
themselves," for the present, in order that the denomination may have the benefit of our 
labors at a price whirh will favor the largest circulation of the Magazine, and its widest influ- 
ence for good. Having n') expenses for salaries, and none except those connected with the 
actual cost of the number:* as they come from the press, we are able to ♦' make both ends 
meet " at a figure which will save us from actual loss, with a lis* of two thousand subscribers, 
and which promises some small return for our risk and trouble by and by, when a circulation 
shall be reached which shall be in some measure commensurate with the fitness of the Quar- 
terly for the popular Congregational need. We are willing to trust to the good sense of the 



denbmliittion to brix^ that 4>y speedily pxu Meanwhile we feel that it if irith more .than 9n 
oidtinacy okaimiipan public sympathy and patronage tiUat we nia7«];genpoa-«i«r7«iM.wiko 
receives this circular to send us at least one new name without delay. While our lilt {a rxrj 
eneonraging in its character, it is not yet such as to save u« from loss. 

If only theptutor and deacons of every Congregational Chtfreh — the men whose wwata and 
tastes are especially consulted in its preparation, and whose lives when finishfd, wiU'find ve- 
eord in its pages^ — ^will send us their subscriptions, the work will be placed at once in a eonili- 
tion of strength and permanenoe ; while, from the biographical and statistical charaoter of its 
matter, etevy such dollar is invested in numbers which will increase in pecuniary valiM (in« 
stead of becoming worthless) as the years pass on. 

T)BLe 'Quarterly is now published under the sanction of the American CoogregOfiomU Unhn 
of New York, as well as the Congregational Library Aetociation of Boston, and its Secretary 
is now an associate Editor. The ** Year Book" is discontinued, and its matter will appear in 
our pages. We fiimish now the only Denominational bond, in the way of Quarterly Jour* 
nalism, and we .hope ao to conduct our labors as to please and profit 4II. 

In return, is it too much to hope for the kind patronage of all ? 

J. S. CLAEK. ) 

IL M. D:EZT£K, ( Editor$9nd 

A. H. QTHNT, ( Prcprieion. 

I. P. LANGWOKTHY, ) 
Boston, April 12, 1859. 

Send tour Name, Address (and Dollar) to 

"THE CONGREGATIONAL QUARTERLY, 

Chamncy Street, Boeton, Mom,*' 



1859.] 



Lesson from tie Pad. 



66 



England, and are not fonnd out of it 
Thej sprang from the piety and ecclesi- 
astical polity of our Congregational Fath- 
ers. The Churck gaye birth and shape 
and size to the town* 

Stimnlated by this two-fold impulse of 
an inward religions zeal, and a spirit of 
secular enterprise, (for the Puritans were 
by no means regardless of ** the life that 
now is," when yiewed as a perquisite of 
M godliness,") that first generation wrought 
prodigious achierements in Church Ex- 
t^iBon. The four or five original church- 
es that were planted within the Plymouth 
and Massachusetts colonies, had multi- 
plied, in the course of thirty years from 
the arriTal of the Mayflower, to forty-two, 
ai^d were actually supporting fifty-five 
settled ministers. Have any people, since 
apostolic times, afforded a better illustration 
of deep poverty, abounding unto the riches 
of their liberality? Actuated by the 
same spirit, how soon would their descend- 
ants evangelize the new settiements of the 
West, and reclaim the old wastes of the 
East, by merely supplying their own re- 
ligious wants, and providing for their 
children's I It is not pretended that the 
hand of charitv could be withdrawn 

w 

from the work of Church Extension. The 
present system of Home Missions will con- 
tinue to be a necessity — a growing neces- 
rity — ^perhaps till the millenium ; but when 
the demand for missionary labor is already 
so far beyond the possibility of an adequate 
supply ; ^when charity is ready to faint 
under the task imposed upon her ; may 
it not be well to inquire whether this 
early, and, for many years, ordy method 
of propagating the gospel among us, and 
which was found so effectual, cannot be 
made more available than it now is? 
whether the colonization of churches. 
East and West, but especially in the older 
and better supplied portions of the land, 
cannot be accomplished with less reliance 
on foreign aid than we now see ? For, if 
it can, then there is a proportional amount 
of Home Missionary Amds reserved for 
propagating the Grospel in places where 



its sel^propagation and self^upport are 
impossible ; and, what is a still greater 
gain, the churches themselves, thus rising 
by their own exertion, are made better 
thereby — more robust — more like those 
primitive churches on these shores, which 
for earnest piety and Christian enterprise 
will ever be regarded as models. It was 
not so much through charity, as through 
stem self-denial, that they were trained 
and toughened for the work which God 
gave them to do. 

Another type of Church Extension was 
developed among the Congregationalists 
of New England during the second gen- 
eration. Cases were beginning to occur 
like those which now constitute the chief 
business of Home Missions, where the 
ministry of the Word was evidentiy need- 
ed in some new settiement, before the 
resident members were able, by any 
efforts of their own, to support a minister. 
To meet this demand, without calling on 
the Misnonary Society — ^the only and ever 
present resort now, but an imposability 
then — ^*» branch" churches (so named,) 
were formed ; that is, a small number of 
famlies, living six, or eight, or twelve miles 
from the sanctuary, were permitted to ex- 
pend their proportion of the parish tax to 
support preaching among themselves, for 
three or six months of the year — still 
holding their ecclesiastical relation to the 
old home, and returning there on comr 
munion Sabbaths, and continuing to wor- 
ship there after exhausting their own 
scanty means. This plan had a two-fold 
aspect It looked to the well-being both 
of the mother Church and the young 
daughter. It guarded agsunst a too sud- 
den depletion on the one hand, and a too 
heavy burden on the other. It avoided 
the indiscretion so often seen in later 
times, of splitting one strong Church into 
two feeble ones ; while, at the same time, 
it afforded a fit opportunity for the " strong 
to bear the infirmities of the weak," till 
both were prepared for a full and friend- 
ly separation. It may be regarded as 
the first mode of conducting Domestic 



56 



A Lesson frtm the Past. 



[Jan. 



Missioiifl in New England ; and no subse- 
quent improvements in the system can 
atone for the loss occasioned by the almost 
uniyersal neglect into which it has fallen. 
A return to this old path, where circum- 
stances will permit, would relieve the 
Home Missionary Society of large outlays 
in the older portions of the field, which, 
for whatever cause, are becoming larger 
than heretofore. It would save the 
** branch" Church from contracting the 
feeling of dependence and pauperism, 
which, unless grace prevent, is almost sure 
to become a habit under the usual elee- 
mosynary treatment, oftentimes sadly en- 
feebling its moral powers long after its 
ability in all other respects has been at- 
tested. And how much of ecclesiastical 
rancor, so often engendered by an unfra- 
temal way of colonizing churches, would 
be avoided I Among all the experiments 
made in this way of Church Exten- 
sion, of which a score can be readily 
called to miod,^ not one quarrel, or even a 
breach of friendship between the mother 
and the daughter, is remembered. A 
process so gradual and quiet, and withal 
so accordant with the laws of nature, 
could hardly be forced to a violent issue. 
It is much to be wished that those over- 
grown churches in our large towns, whose 
spiritual life would course quicker in every 
vein — whose youth would be "renewed 
like the eagle's " — by such depletion, and 
whose wisest members, it may be, are re- 
strained from proposing it, mainly through 
fear of stirring up strife, would ponder this 
view of the subject, and see if it be not a 
practicable one. And there are other 
churches, not so large, which yet have 
members living in some remote village or 
section of the town, where another place 
of worship ought to be opened, and will 
be, before long, and a separate Church 
gathered. In the modern way of meeting 
such exigencies, if one-third of the popu- 
lation in that village or section of the town 

1 The prMent Ist charohea in Beyerly, Manches- 
ter, DanTexs, BiUerlca, Plympton, Hiddleboxo*, ue 
Mnong the nomber that Ibrmed. 



happen to be Baptists, or Methodiati, and 
the other two-thirds are of the Orthodox 
Congregational order, the chances are 
altogether in &v(»r of a Baptist or a Meth- 
odist organization, with a meeting-lioafle 
and minister to match. But if the Con- 
gregationalists so far ouiziumber ail othen 
that nobody else has the heart or the ftoe 
to occupy the ground by opening a place 
of separate worship, a movement at lenglli 
originates among themselves ; not in the 
old Church and Society, however, but 
outside of themt — ^perhaps in opposilioii to 
them — and the Home Missionary Society 
must expend some $200 a year, for five or 
ten years, in bringing up a feeble Church, 
which would just as well, and in a shorter 
time, have come up of itself under the de- 
lightful and lasting obligations of gratitude 
to the mother Church, if the Pastor and his 
people had gone to work in the way that 
their Fathers would have done a hundred 
years ago. 

The next form of church-extension 
adopted by the fathers of New-England 
cannot be so cordially commended to the 
imitation of their descendants now, thou^ 
as that time and in their condition it was 
a most important and praiseworthy de- 
velopement of Christian principle, which 
cannot be too fondly cherished. The rav- 
ages of French and Indian wars, where- 
in plantations were laid waste, villages 
burned, and their population slaughtered 
or dispersed, broke up the churches also 
at many of these points of attack. In 
several instances the ministers themselves 
were either massacred or taken captive. 
To repair and repeople these desolations 
was a slow and sorrowful process. The 
dismal recollections of a burning home, 
a murdered parent, a child carried 
into captivity among savages, were not 
suited to hasten the return of the former 
occupants. And then those forsaken 
ways of Zion, her solemn feasts suspend- 
ed, the voice of her watchmen silenced 
on her walls — there was a strong repel- 
lancy in all this, which it needed some 
countervailing encouragement to with- 



1859.] 



A Lesson from the Pad. 



57 



stand. It became a matter of necessity 
lor the General Court to extend a help- 
ing hand in the reestablishment of public 
worship, or else to expunge the statute 
requiring it Persuaded as those Puritan 
magistrates were, that '* godliness hath 
promise of the life that now is," and that 
the ministry of the word is essential to 
the growth of godliness in any coomiunity, 
they fpnnd no difBculty in appropriating 
from the public treasury the means of 
sustaining that ministry in these disabled 
parishes. Nor were they justly chargeable 
with a perversion of their civil functions 
to a purely religious use. They were 
consulting the interests of the Common- 
wealth, as they honestly understood them. 
' The gospel has evidently been the mak- 
ing of our towns,' they said ; and this 
waa their way of repairing the desolations 
that had swept over them. Among the 
old papers still preserved in the State 
House of Massachusetts, are to be found 
not less than fifty formal applications from 
feeble parishes, presented to the Legisla- 
ture between the years 1693 and 1711, 
and a record of as many appropriations 
fit>m the public treasury — amounting in 
all to about £1,000 — for their relief. 
These cases of necessity were mostiy, but 
not wholly, the result of Indian depreda- 
tions; and this way of meeting them, 
whatever objections may lie against its 
practical application in our day, shows 
how appalling to the guardians of the 
Commonwealth, at that time, were such 
moral destitutions as have since called 
into being the agency of Home Missions. 
Another calamity which befel the 
churches soon after passing these '* perils 
among the heathen," developed still 
another method of relief, from which a 
lesson may be learned. Many intima- 
tions have come down to us through old 
pamphlets. Church records, and traditions, 
leaving no room to doubt that the insti- 
tutions of religion were really endangered 
during the first quarter of the eighteenth 
century, through sheer covetousness — the 
natural outgrowth of spiritual declension. 

8 



When we see the aged Increase Mather 
going down to the grave, in 1728, under a 
sorrowful premonition that '* the glory is 
departing from New-England," and his 
son. Dr. Cotton Mather, following him a 
few years later, in equal heaviness, ^^ lest 
our glorious Lord come quickly, in various 
ways, to remove his golden candlesticks 
from a place which has been in a more 
than ordinary measure illumined with 
them," we may be sure that a malady worse 
than French or Indian wars, was wasting 
the churches. Nor are we left in doubt as 
to its character and origin. With no per. 
ceptible loss of Orthodoxy in their creedst 
they were losing their spiritual life, and 
with it their interest in those means of 
grace on which that life depends. The 
support of the ministry had become a 
burden, which, as it could not be entirely 
thrown off, they sought, under various 
pretexts, to lighten. A depreciated cur- 
rency enabled them to do this without 
violating their civil contract ; for the nom- ' 
inal salary, paid in full, would go but half 
as far as it originally went in sup- 
porting a family. Consequently min- 
isters were quitting their vocatjon for 
lack of a living ; or, what in the 
end proved still worse fpr tl^eir fiocks, 
were supplying their pulpits on the Sab- 
bath, and the farm or workshop during the 
week. Vacancies were becoming more 
numerous and of longer continuance. 
Had there been a Home Missionary So- 
ciety at that time, applications for aid in 
iqaking up inadequate salaries would 
have greaUy increased, on the plea of 
" hard times," — as though when times are 
really hard, it were not proportionally 
hard to raise Home Missionary funds. But 
no help of this sort could be had, as no 
such Society existed. What could be 
done t we ask with emphasis — for, viewed 
from our stand-point and its surroundings, 
there is not a more perplexing question 
connected with Home Missions. The 
thing that was done — and effectually 
done too— is not blazoned on the pages 
of history ; nor is it committed to Chuix^h 



58 



A Lesson from the Past. 



[Jan. 



records with very definite detaOs. Never- 
theless, several old pamphlets relating to 
the subject have come down to us, one of 
which, published anonjmouslj in 1725, 
and found among the collections of the 
Congregational Library Association, gives 
a sufficient answer to our question. It 
was evidentiy written bj a clergyman, 
and, as appears from its preface, at the 
request of a magistrate. His object is to 
**lay open and set home" the people's du- 
ty to support their ministers. And this 
he does in a way which reminds one of 
** the power of Elias," when dealing with 
the sins of Israel, — though he frankly con- 
fesses at the start, that he " don't expect 
to convince all who have low and con- 
temptible thoughts of God's word and 
ministers, or such as are eat up with cov- 
etousness." Statistics are produced to 
verify his estimate of the cost of living — 
letting us into some curious secrets 
about ministerial house-keeping; histori- 
cal facts are quoted to show with what 
penalties Grod is wont to visit the " sin of 
sacrilege" — ^for such he charges upon all 
who rob Grod's ministers of an adequate 
support ; instances are cited of parochial 
generosity, and what has come of it; 
logic, hot and terrible and resistiess as 
lightning, is hurled forth at " the crying 
sin." Viewing this document as a speci- 
men of the treatment then administered 
to churches, which in one sentence are 
described as " perishing without vision," 
and in the next as " eat up with covet- 
ousness," and knowing, as we do from 
other sources of information, the curative 
effects it produced, may we not conclude 
that there are other means beside money, 
to be used in carrj-ing on the work of 
Home Missions — moral means of immense 
power, which pastors and laymen, if not 
without money, yet over and above all 
that money can accomplish, may employ 
with happiest effect At any rate we 
may take courage, from this chapter in 
our early history, to try the experiment in 
cases where money cannot be had, or 
where it has hitherto been employed to 



little or no purpose. Ruinoas beyond re- 
demption would have been the state of 
a large proportion of our Congregational 
churches at that time, if nothing but 
missionary appropriations could have 
saved the perishing — as some of ns, per- 
haps, have been too ready to believe hi 
regard to similar cases now. 

Nearly allied to Church-extension, if not 
an integral part of it, is Church-erection, 
or the building of meeting-houses, whicli 
was also accomplished by our fathers in a 
way suggestive of at least one useful les- 
son. It is truly refreshing to see how sel- 
dom the first hundred and fifty years of 
our ecclesiastical history shows any trace 
of a meeting house debt Almost always 
the building was paid for before it was 
dedicated. Those Puritan fiithers appear 
to have had a horror of the idea of wor- 
shipping Crod in a mortgaged meeting- 
house — ^perhaps for the same pious reason 
that made David unwilling to ofi*er burnt- 
offerings unto the Lord, of that which had 
cost him nothing. The way they todc to 
keep out of debt was a very simple one. 
It was merely to provide such a house as 
they could pay for at the time, and build 
a better when they were able. Usually 
the first place of worship in the town was 
either; a smalL and cheap structure, cor- 
responding with the rude cabins of the first 
settiers, to be replaced before long by a 
larger one ; or else the frame of a building 
sufficientiy large for their future wants was 
raised and covered in at the outset, within 
which the congregation worshipped for a 
season, sitting on rough slab benches, 
and hearing the gospel from a rude 
board pulpit This was as far as the first 
appropriation of funds would go. Anoth- 
er assessment brought about the glazing. 
In due time, but no faster than the funds 
could be afforded, the plastering was ac- 
complished, the pews constructed, and the 
pulpit put in its lofty place, with that 
magnificent sounding-board hung over 
the minister's head, — to the terror of weak 
nerves and to the never-tiring gaze of 
children. Thus was the Sanctuary fin- 



1859*] The American Congregational Union. 59 

islied wnd paid for ; and thus did the age, that the interests of a religions society 

builders bequeath to their children's child- will be promoted by putting up a larger 

ren an enduring, oak-framed house of or finer Church, by several thousands 

worship, suggestive of filial obligations of dollars, than the mem}>ers can afford 

and gratitude, instead of bequeathing a just now, would have had no weight in 

burdensome debt, as we are now accus- those early times. To the unsophisticated 

tomed to do with our new meeting-houses, minds of our fathers the idea of inducing 

which, if it do not ultimately crush the new members to join the society by con- 

flocietjr, becomes a lasting memorial of im- tracting debts for them to pay, would 

providence and injustice. The plea so have seemed strange — ^perhaps ridiculous, 

often and so effectually uiged in this fast if they ever allowed themselves to laugh ! 



THE AMERICAN CONGREGATIONAL UNION. 

BT REV. B. W. OILMAN, BANOOR, ME. 

Thx primitive simplicity of Congrega- gradual change within a few years, and 
tioiialism leaves the way open for the the feeling has become more decided, 
members of its churches to employ, with that, without modifying at all the princi- 
pei&ct fireedom, such instrumentalities as pie of voluntary societies, there is need 
they prefer, in furtherance of the work of of d(nng something more than has been 
Christ The theory which makes the local done, for the diffusion of distinctively Con- 
assembly of believers an integral part of gregational principles, and the encourage- 
a visible national body, whose special ment of those who adopt them, 
functions are far different from those of This conviction has led to several im- 
the apostolic churches, has been discarded portant measures, among which may be 
by CongregationalistB; and such depart- mentioned, the Albany Convention of 
ments of labor as are outside the paro- 1852, the fund for building Church edifi- 
chial sphere of a particular Church have ces, the Congregational Library Associa- 
usnally been left to the care of voluntary tion, and the American Congregational 
societies, which from their dependence Union. 

for existence and support upon the sym- The Convention at Albany did much 

pathy and confidence of the churches, to develope and concentrate the interest 

have probably been more fully conformed of the churches, both East and West, in 

to the wishes of their supporters, than efforts to promote the kingdom of Christ 

they would have been under a more com- and the wel&re of men through the Con- 

plex (Hganization. gregational polity ; and the great praoti- 

These are the instrumentalities which cal measure recommended by it, called 

the members of local churches employ forth an enthusiastic response. It was pro- 

fbr the dissemination of religious truth, posed to raise the sum of fifly thousand 

for the maintenance of misuonaries, and dollars for the erection of Congregational 

for beneficence of every kind, in remote Church-edifices at the West, by a simul- 

plaees. taneous contribution upon the first Sab- 

Though under this system of things the bath of January, 185S ; it being under- 
Congregational spirit has tended to coop- stood, at the outset, that one fifth part of 
erative rather than separate denomina- that amount was provided for by the gen- 
tional action, and has given birth to but erous offering which accompanied the first 
few societies under exclusive control of suggestion of this measure in the Conven- 
CoogregationalistB ; there has been a, tion. In accordance with this plan, not 



60 



The American Cmgregatmdl Urdon. 



[Jak. 



fifty thousand only, but upwards of sixty 
thousand dollars were collected and dis- 
bursedf with hardly any deduction for ex- 
penses; and the results have fully shown 
the wisdom of assisting young and feeble 
churches to erect houses of worship, on 
condition of their being completed with- 
out the encumbrance of a debt 

Before the Committee to which die 
oversight of this work was entrusted by 
the Albany Convention, had completed 
their labors, the time seemed to have 
come for some organization more perma- 
nent than a committee, that might more 
efficiently devise and execute measures 
adapted to promote the welfare of the 
churches of the land. And thus, almost 
contemporaneously, and with perfect har- 
mony and sympathy, the Congregational 
Union was formed, and the Library 
Association re-organized, the one in 
New York, and the other in Boston ; in 
May 1858. 

The Constitution of the 'Union' defines 
its objects in the following words : 

" The particular business and objects of 
this Society shall be, to collect, preserve, 
and publish authentic infonnation concern- 
ing the history, condition and continual 
progress of the Congregational churches in 
all parts of this country, with their affil- 
iated institutions, and with their idations 
to kindred churches and institutions in 
other countries: 

** To promote, — by tracts and books, by 
devising and recommending to the public, 
plans of cooperation in building meeting- 
houses and parsonages, and in providing 
parochial and pastoral libraries and in 
other methods, — the progress and well- 
working of the Congregational Church 
polity I 

'* To a£ford increased facilities for mutual 
acquaintance and friendly intercourse and 
helpfulness, among ministers and churches 
of the Congregational order : 

«« And, in general, to do whatever a volim- 
tary association of individuals may do — in 
Christian discretion, and without invading 
the appropriate field of any existing in^tti- 
tution, — for the promotion of evangelical 
knowledge and piety in connection with 



Congregational principles of Church gov- 
emment." 

One object which the ' Union' has aimed 
to accomplish in accordance with this con- 
stitution, and thus far with gratifying suc- 
cess, is the awakening of a new interest 
in the proceedings of the Anniversary 
week in New York. For this end provis- 
ion has been made in successive years for. 
a social gathering, in which the members 
of the * Union' from all parts of the coun- 
try might meet and enjoy the fresh enter- 
change of friendly feeling, and also' for 
public addresses carefully prepared and 
fitted to instruct as well as to interest the 
audiences assembled to hear them. The 
addresses thus made and published, form 
a valuable contribution to the religious 
literature of the denomination. As a 
matter of history, we give the names of 
those who have rendered this service in 
successive years. 

In 1854, three addresses were delivered, 
and subsequently published in a single 
octavo volume. Rev. Prof. Park spoke 
on "The fitness of the Church to the 
constitution of renewed men ;" Rev. T. M. 
Post, of St Louis, on " The Mission of 
Congregationalism at the West;" and 
Rev. Dr. Bacon, on "The validity of 
New England Ordinations." 

In 1855, Rev. Dr. Stearns, of Amherst 
College, delivered a discourse before the 
* Union* on " The Nature and Principles of 
Congregationalism;" and the Rev. Dr. 
Sturtevant of Illinois College, an ad- 
dress on " The Anti-Sectarian Tendency 
of Congregational Church Polity." 

In 1856, the attention of the audience 
assembled was chiefly occupied with the 
subject of building houses of worship 
at the West, and especially in Kansas ; 
on which topic addresses were made 
by Rev. W. I. Budington, D.D., Rev. 
James Drummond, Rev. J. H. Towne, 
Rev. Richard Knight, and Rev. H. W. 
Beechcr. 

In 1857, the address before the * Union' 
was delivered by the Rev. Dr. Shepard, 
of Bangor Theological Seminary, on 



1859.] 



The American OongregaUonal Union. 



61 



*^ The Congregational Pulpit ; " and in 
1858, by Rev. H. D. Kitchell of Detroit, 
on ^* Congregationaliflm and Presbyterian- 
ism compared and contrasted, in their 
working and results." 

The attractions thus presented have had 
their effect upon the attendance at the anni- 
▼enaries in New York, and the address 
and the collation of the Congregational 
Union are now looked upon as essential 
parts in the programme of the week. 

The publication of ^ The American 
Congregational Tear Book" by the * Union' 
has been of great service. The Minutes 
of the various General Associations, in- 
complete at the best, had, previously to 
1854, been the only means by which the 
numbers and strength of the Congrega- 
tional denomination could be proximately 
ascertained ; and those Minutes had but a 
limited local circulation. In the Year 
Book for 1854, prepared with great care 
and expense by the Rev. T. Atkinson, 
then Secretary of the * Union,' an attempt 
was made, for the first time,< we believe, 
since Congregationalism crossed the Hud- 
son, to collect and publish in one volume, 
complete lists of the Congregational min- 
isters and churches in the United States. 
Successive years have given opportunities 
for corrections and enlargement; and 
though perfection is not by any means yet 
attained, the Year Book fills a gap which 
nothing else supplies. 

Additional value is given to this an- 
nual publication by the insertion of ** Bio- 
graphical Notices" of Congregational min- 
isters recently deceased, and by a " Revival 
record." Some valuable essays on Church 
polity and history have also been inserted, 
with engravings of Church edifices, in 
different parts of the country. The vol- 
ame for 1859, making the sixth of the 
leries, will be issued simultaneously with 
the first number of this Quarterly, and 
among other improvements, the catalogue 
of Congregational ministers will show 
when and where each one received his 
Collegiate and Theological education, so 



far as the facts can be ascertained by the 
compiler. 

Beside these measures, the ' Union' has 
kept in view other objects of practical 
benevolence, which are suggested in its 
constitution. It has done something 
towards furnishing pastoral or parish Li- 
braries, as its means allowed, — not by 
publishing new works, but by grants of 
books or money, on certain wise and just 
conditions. It is still engaged in provid- 
ing for the necessities of feeble churches 
throughout the land, for whose existence 
some inexpensive house of worship seems 
indispensable. The multiplication of such 
churches in distant localities, and even in 
some parts of New England, and the pros- 
pect of good to be accomplished by ren- 
dering them assistance, will not allow this 
Society to retire from the work which it 
has undertaken, and in which it is a most 
useful and important auxiliary of the 
Home Missionary Society. 

The resources of the * Union' firom year 
to year have been limited, and indeed 
its work may be considered as, thus far, 
only preparatory to a mord enlarged and 
comprehensive service. For some time 
the burden rested almost entirely upon a 
few men in New York, whose contribu- 
tions wero not made grudgingly, nor of 
necessity, but with the utmost cheerful- 
ness; but as definite objects of benefi- 
cence have been held up to view, the 
churches of the country have begun to 
send in their gifb more Gceely, As the 
* Union' becomes more widely known for 
practical efficiency, it is to be hoped that 
its usefulness will secure for it vastly 
greater contributions for ends which can- 
not be accomplished through any other 
instrumentality. 

The President of the * Union' is the Rev. 
Dr. Bacon of New Haven, and its Corres- 
ponding Secretary is Rev. Isaac P. Lang- 
worthy, late of Chelsea, Ms., an esteemed 
brother, whose energy, wisdom, experience 
and tact admirably fit him for the work to 
which the providence of God has led him 



62 Father 8cmyer. [Jak. 



BEV. JOHN SAWYER, D.D. 

A BIOGRAPHICAL SBLSTCH, BY KEY. ENOCH POND, D.D., BANOOB, MB. 

Tub Rev. John Sawyer was bom in adrantages he had. He entered Dart- 
Hebron, Ct. Oct 9th, 1755. There he month College in 1781, and giadoaled in 
resided until his twelfth year, when he re- 1785. His class consisted of twen^ 
moved with his parents to the town of jronng men ; among fdiom were seTend 
Orford, Coos Co., New Hampshire. Or- who afterwards distingoishod themselves 
ford, now one of the most beautiftil vil- as ministers of Christ Among ti&e most 
lages in New-England, was then a new distinguished were the late Dr. Parish of 
place ; the first white settler having ar- Bjfield, Dr. Kellogg of Portland^ Timo- 
rived there only three years before. Of thy Dickinson of HoUiston, and Mass 
course, the Sawyer family were subjected Shepard of Little Compton, R. I. 
to all the privations and hardships of a On leaving College, Mr. Sawyer had 
new settlement Of thele, the young no hesitancy as to his foture coiine of 
man of whom we speak (for he was then life. He had, years before, consecrated 
young) encountered his full share, for the himself to Christ, and he felt bound aiid 
next twelve years. During this period, a inclined to devote himself to the groat 
Church was established in Orford, a min- work of preaching the gospel. He stad- 
ister settled, and Mr. Sawyer had become ied theology for a time with Pres. Whee- 
a hopeful subject of renewing grace. Of lock, and for a longer time with the late 
the particular exercises of his mind, at the Dr. Spring of Newburyport, and corn- 
time of his conversion, we are not inform- menced preaching within a year after leav- 
ed. His subsequent life showed that the ing College. He preached his first sermon 
change was thorough and abiding. in Orford, the place where he had been 

It was during this period, also, that the brought up, and was earnestly invited to 

war of the Revolution commenced ; and settle there ; but not feeling fully compe- 

in the year 1777, when only twenty-two tent to take upon himself the responsibil- 

years of age, Mr. Sawyer volunteered ities of a pastor, he deferred, for a time, 

under Capt Chandler of Piermont, to re- acceding to the request Having preach- 

pel the advances of Gen. Burgoyne. He ed in different places for nearly two years, 

was at Saratoga, at the surrender of Bur- he returned to Orford, and was ordained 

goyne, and shared in all the rejoicings of pastor of the Church, in October, 1787. 

that eventful day. He made it a condition of his ordination, 

Having had but few advantages of that the Church should relinquish a prac- 

school education up to this time, on his tice, which had been continued from its 

return from the army, Mr. Sawyer ob- first organization, viz : that of baptizing 

tained the consent of his father (for he children on, what was termed, the half 

would do nothing without that) to repair way covenant. 

to Hanover, and enter upon a course of It is evidence of the unexceptionable 

study. Dr. Wheeloek's school at Hano- character of Mr. Sawyer in his earlier 

ver was now in its infancy, having been years, that he found so much favor in the 

chartered as a College only a few years, place where he had been educated. He 

It offered few attractions or advantages to was an exception in this respect to the 

studious young men, yet it was the best general rule, that " a prophet is not with- 

which that part of the country afforded ; out honor, save in his own country." 

and Mr. Sawyer made the best use of the Mr. Sawyer continued in the ministry 



1859.] 



Father Somber. 



63 



at Orford aboat nine yean, when he ac- 
cepted a call to become pastor of a 
ChuTch in Boothbay, Me. PreTious to 
hia installation, the Church at Boothbaj' 
had been PresbTterian ; but at his sug- 
gestion, the fonn of oiganization was 
changed, and it became Congregational 

Mr. Sawjer continned at Boothbay 
about ten years, when, at his own request, 
be was dismiaBed, and remoyed to New- 
CSaitle. His object in going to New^ 
Cilde, seems to haye been two-fold ; first, 
tbat his children might haye the benefit 
of instruction at the Academy ; and sec- 
•on^y, that he might be more at liberty 
to itinerate, and ^ do the work of an £yan- 
geliit," in the more destitute parts of 
Maine. From this period, his labors as a 
Home Missionary commenced; in the 
psweeuAi on of which he trayelled, in all 
Unctions, throng the forests, and among 
the new setdements of Maine, feeding 
and comforting the scattered people of 
God, and urging sinners to become re- 
coDoiled to him. 

About^fifty years ago, Mr. Sawyer first 
eaaoe to Bangor, and established himself 
there as preacher and school-master, with 
a promise of two hundred dollars a year 
jfar his support; — a promise which (owing 
to political hostility) the fathers of the 
town declined to fulfil, but which was 
made «p to him by the efibrts of individ- 
Qab. At this time, there was a great 
mortality in and around Bangor, so that 
he was called to attend more than a hun- 
dred funerals, in the course of a year. 

There was no Church or meeting-house 
in Bangor, when Father Sawyer first 
came there, nor for several years afler- 
warda. Indeed, there was very little ap- 
pearance of religion in the place. The 
writer of this once heard him say, in the 
pni^it of the first Church in Bangor : 
** When I first preached here, I knew but 
one person, within two miles of this place, 
who gave me any evidence of being a 
true Christian." 

But his miniatiy in the Penobscot re- 
gioo was not a firnitlesB one. Though there 



was no Church in Bangor, there was one 
in what is now Brewer, on the opposite 
aide of the river ; and we are told that he 
received nxty persons into this Church, 
and baptized thirty children, in one day. 
Here must have been the first revival of 
religion that was ever enjoyed in this sec- 
tion of country. 

More than forty years ago, Mr. Sawyer 
removed his fiimily to Gariand, a farming 
town about twenty miles finom Bangor, 
where he engaged in his favorite work of 
preaching and teaching, and, except at 
some short intervals. Garland has been 
the home of the family ever since. His 
wife was Rebecca Hobart of Plymouth, 
Mass. She died twenty-two years ago, at 
the age of seventy-six. Mr. Sawyer 
died October 14th, 1858, at Bangor, 
aged one hundred and three years and 
five daysl His fiineral was attended 
on the Sabbath following, by an immense 
concourse of people. Not less than three 
thousand persons passed, one afler anoth- 
er, by his coffin to take their last look of 
his venerable form. His remains were in- 
terred, the next day, beside those of his 
wife at Garland, there to await the resur- 
rection of the just 

In looking back on the life of Mr. Saw- 
yer, or perhaps we ought to say, and to 
have said all along, Doctor Saw^-er ; (for, 
at a late annual meeting, the Trustees of 
his Alma Mater very appropriately con- 
ferred on him the degree of Doctor of 
Divinity) the first thiog that strikes us is 
his great age. In this fleeting, dying 
world, we look with wonder upon a man 
who has outiived three entire gener- 
ations, — almost half the time since New 
England was settied; whose memory 
reaches back to the days of Whitfield, of 
President Edwards, and of the old French 
war ; who has seen what are now some of 
the most thickly settled parts of New 
England covered with dense forests, and 
inhabited only by savage beasts, and sav- 
age men. We wonder at the tenacity of 
life thus exhibited ; ** that the harp of 
thousand strings should keep in tune so 



64 



Faiher Sawyer. 



[Jar. 



long." We wonder the more at this, in 
the case of Dr. Sawyer, because his life 
was an unquiet one — full of stirring and 
often painful incidents— filled up, to a great 
extent, with toils, anxieties, exposures and 
hardships. Let us learn from this and 
similar cases, that so long as God has a 
work for us to do, he can sustain us to 
perform it ; that, till we reach the limit he 
has assigned us, we are immortal; but 
that, so soon as we touch that fated limit, 
we live no longer. Though some of the 
old patriarchs lived almost a thousand 
years, they died. Though Father Sawyer 
lived 103 years and five days, he too has 
gone. And when we reach the bound 
which God has set us, we shall go also. 
O let us be ready ! The Lord prepare us 
for that day 1 

•In contemplating the character of Dr. 
Sawyer, it is evident, first of all, that he 
was a man of high aims^ — of enlarged and 
comprehensive views. He was so, natural- 
ly ; else, at the age of twenty-four, and 
in face of the most appalling hindrances, 
he had never left the paternal home, and 
encountered the difficulties of acquiring 
a public education. Why did he not con- 
tent himself, like many others of his own 
age, to dwell among the stumps and log 
cabins of Orford ; break up a piece of 
new land, and make for himself a farm ; 
and enjoy the comforts of quiet, rural life ? 
He might have been useful and happy in 
this way. Undoubtedly he would have 
been. But he aimed at something higher. 
His mental instincts admonished him that 
he was made for something more than 
this. He loved his country, — loved his 
race ; and he felt constrained to attempt 
something to elevate the one, and bless 
the other. 

We have said that the aims of Dr. Saw- 
yer were naturally high. But when these 
views and aims had all been sanctified by 
the grace of Christ, and consecrated to 
the purposes of His cause and kingdom, 
he was impelled by a new and noble mo- 
tive to ** expect great things," and " at- 
tempt great things." Now he must do val- 



iantly for Christ He most labor ear- 
nestly for the advancement of his king- 
dom. His field was the toorld ; and the 
world must, if possible, be made to feel 
his influence, and become the better for 
his having lived in it 

Dr. Sawyer was a laborious man ; and 
his labors, in general, were wisely directed. 
He did not attempt to do impoBsible 
things, — things away off in the fields of 
romance, where '* distance lends enchant- 
ment to the view ;" but, like Nehemiah's 
builders, he labored ''over against his 
own house." He studied to know what 
might reasonably be expected of Attn;- 
what good could be done by such a man 
as he was, in the sphere of life in which 
he was called to move ; and this good he 
attempted, with all his heart 

The public life of Father Sawyer fell 
at a most important period — at a forming 
period — when Christian churches and 
ministers began to wake up to a sense of 
their responsibilities, and all those good 
institutions were springing into life, which 
have for their object the conversion of the 
world to Christ; and there is scarcely one 
of them which did not find an efficient 
mover and helper in him. He aided 
in forming the first Missionary Soci- 
eties — those which looked to the benefit 
of the new settlements in our own coun- 
try. He was a pioneer in the service of 
these Societies; and in their service he 
labored more than fifty years — some three- 
fourths of his whole ministerial life. .Un- 
der the direction of these Societies, and in 
connection with hb worthy compeer. 
Father Sewall, he traced and retraced the 
wild woods of Maine, leaving scarcely a 
plantation unvisited, or a solitary dwelling 
where his face was not known. These 
journeys were commonly performed on 
horseback ; and for nothing was he more 
remarkable than punctuality in meeting 
appointments. At one time, it became 
necessar}' for him to ride in a violent snow- 
storm. His friends admonished him not 
to go ; but he would not desist He or- 
dered his horse and set out Afler going 



tttftt; ind on behig afiked wb]r be did not conflkiefiiMd letigth, and with great peitn 

go on, be fepiied: •'The tioatlief ii M» neney ; with a styength of voice and ea- 

h^far ike bemt/' ergy of ac^n boyend that Of ttiortt nunii* 

It was tbeis Tisita to the de^ti^ate, mote ten in middle life* 
etpedaJHf in the NotliiOM and EasteM father SaWyet loVed the Gospel mio^ 

pafti of Maitte, nAddi impelled Di^. San^ istiy, and deemed it his higher honor to 

yer to think of increased fiudlitiee for fait* be adambaflsaderof Cbzist He loved aB 

niAing a siit»p]}r of filkhlbl ministers In the (f ti^ of the liiinisei^, and eiigaged in 

oooaeotioft tnfli a few otheri^ be early them fiom the heart, as nnto the Lord, 

p fT cj e ete d what ii now the Theelogieal and not to men^ He loved and honored 

Seminary in Baagor; pfocnred a charter the Bible, and made it the stody of hi^ 

te it; ooUeoted fbnds, and got it into sue lilb^ He conld rspeat no small part of it 

ciamAil operalkm. From the firtt, be batf from memory ^ and when hi^ sight and 

been a Trastee of the Seminary f has a^ hearing bad §b failed^ that be 66xAd no 

teamed moat of its anniversaries, and otiier loikgerread it, he refre^Aied hi« ^od! hy 

litaptingi Of the Board ; baa watched over singing ftmiliar hymotf, and poiiKlerfn^ 

it with a patansal solicitiide, and rejoiced and repeating the predOirt word of God. 
in all the good wlncb it has been enabled feather Sawyer preached, not merdy 

t» aeocxii^aL Long will the friends of' because he tbongbt it hi^ dnty^, but be^ 

tlM SemiJUtfy bafte occasiotf to remember cause be loved to preach^ He loved to 

Father Sawyer, as one of its irst movertf^ staiid np on God's behalf, and publish hi^ 

Iff most efficient helpeta^ and ita most messages of warning and d* mercy in tbo 

standftsr friends ears of goilty men. He preached as Ion jf 

Dr. Sawyer was the friend and patfon , as his limbs would bear him to the placer 
not only of theological edacation, but of of meeting. He preached ^veral timetf, 
edoeatidti generallyr He had been him* and with great eamestneas, alter he was k 
self » teacher, as well as preacher ; and hundred years old. 
be laved and honored the common schooL No small part of tiie ictvice Of every 
He toiled, and talked, and eiterted him* Gospel minister l» prayer; and woe to th^ 
self to the utmost to fbrnish a supply of man who finds himself in the place of a 
piooa and competent teachets to go among minister, who has no heart to pray. But 
the n«w Mttlers c^ Maine, and instruct Dr. Sawyer had a heart to pray. Ho 
tilrirchUdtBn. Some yeai^ ago the writer loredtopray. He "prayed to God al" 
of this met him in the porch of one of Cfor ways, with all prayer and supplication in 
obttii^ea, when he grasped my hand, the Spin t** AlmoM his last audible wordd' 
lodBad me fUl in the &ce, and said: were words of prayer — confessing his dnsj 
** Biotfier P.y have you a drop of Pilgrim and crying to God fbr mercy. 
Uodd itt yoor veins ? " I told him I waa Dr. Sawyer was in the habit of preach- 
a descendant of the FilgrnSiS, and hoped I ing, not only in the pulpit, but in ^e 
had some left. ** Well, then, do you not street, and from house to house. No per- 
pity the poor children, who have none to son conld be with him long without bear- 
teach them to read the Bible, and show ing words of instruction from his lips. 
them what they must do to be saved ?" Impenitent persons, especially, if they^did 
All who have been acquainted with him not wish to be spoken to on the subject of 
will remember that this was one of his religion, had no alternative but to avoid 
fiKTorite tspica of coBveiMtion, on which his presence. To his kind physician, who 
he dwelt in the house and by the way, was not a professor of religion, while be* 
■tti^^ down; and linng up. Hisbiatpab* was pdite and thankful, as bO was W 
b» efiM- warn ia^ asklMi m eompma/fiti m€tf Otte^ h^ efleti dreipjf^ irdm dt 



66 The Office of Deacon. [Jah. 

warning : " Remember, Doctor, it is not yer was Yiated by tbe Tenerable Dr. 

too late yet to seek an interest in Christ" Gardiner Spring. It was while Dr. Spring 

^ I thank you. Doctor, for all your kind- was a child that Dr. Sawyer studied Di- 

ness ; and now don't forget heaven." yinity with his father, and often held lit- 

Dr. Sawyer was a great friend and tie Gardiner in his arms. At the dose of 
promoter of revivals of religion. He the interview, Dr. Spring kneeled down 
prayed for them ; he labored instrument- before the patriarch, and craved a part- 
ally to promote them ; he rejoiced in them ing blessing. 

with a joy unspeakable and fidl of glory. But we cannot speak further of the 

The great awakening of the last year was character and doings of this venerable 

the rejoicing of his aged heart He saw man. He has gone fixun us here below — 

it in a fulfilment of ancient prophecies, gone, as we trust, to brighter worlds. Yet 

and believed assuredly that the fulness of his influence pn the earth has by no means 

the Gentile world was coming in. ceased. It stUl lives, and will long live, 

In the summer of his hundredth year, in his memory and example. It lives in 

Dr. Sawyer was invited by the town au- those seeds of holy truth which he has 

thorities of Hebron, Ct, his native place, scattered so widely over the land, and 

to make them a visit He did so. . On which, though long buried, may yet spring 

the Sabbath afler his arrival, he preached up and bear precious fruit It lives, too, 

in the Congregational meeting-house, and in the prayers of almost a hundred years, 

in the morning, before service, he admin- all garnered up in heaven, and yet to be 

istered baptism to four children on the answered on the earth* It is said of the 

Green, before the Church. In his address blessed dead, who die in the Lord, that 

to the people, he said : " A hundred years '* they rest fh)m their labors, and their works 

ago, or nearly, my father and mother do follow them," They not only follow 

brought me in their arms to be baptized them to heaven, and become the measure 

on this very spot" of their endless reward, l)ut they follow 

From Hebron, Dr. Sawyer went to them on the earth, in trains of good in- 
New York to vi^t a grandson. While fluences which they had started, and 
staying there, a company of ladies called which may not cease till time is no more, 
upon him, and sang to him several hymns. It is thus that Father Sawyer, though 
to which he listened with great pleasure, dead, is yet alive. Though his literal 
When they were through, he rose and voice is hushed in silence, he yet speaks, 
said : *'*' Well young ladies, you have sung and will continue to speak, through the 
to me, and now I will sing to you,'' and coming ages. 

striking up the old hymn, " Blow ye the May we all be followers of him, aa he 

trumpet, blow," he sang it through with a followed Christ, and so be prepared to go 

clear voice, and without hesitation or ap- and meet him, where days and years, 

parent difficulty. ages and centuries, are all swallowed up 

During his stay in New York, Dr. Saw- in the eternity of heaven. 



■-♦■ 



THE OFFICE OF DEACON. 

BT BEV. H. K. DEXTEB. 



Thb account of the origin of this office multiplied, there arose a murmuring of 

is given in the sixth chapter of the Acts the Grecians [converts] against the He- 

of the Apostles. It is there stated that brews [converts], because their widows 

** when the number of the disciples was were neglected in the daily minirtrmtioD, 



1859.] 



The Office of Deacon. 



67 



[of alms.] Then the twelve called the 
maltitade of the disciples unto them, and 
said, It is not reason that we should leave 
the [preaching of the] Word of God and 
serve tables. Wherefore, brethren, look 
ye out among you seven men of honest 
report, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom, 
whom we may appoint over [set apart to] 
this bnnness. But we will give ourselves 
continually to prayer. And the saying 
pleased the whole multitude: and they 
choee Stephen, a man full of the Holy 
Ghost, and Philip, and Frochorus, and 
Kicanor, and Timon, and Parmenas, and 
Nicolas, a prosel3rte of Antioch, whom 
they set before the apostles: and when 
tiiey had prayed, they laid their hands on 
them," [in token of their consecration to 
this woik]. 

Three things are here self-evident — 
▼iz! 

1. That these seven were appointed to 
oversee the temporal affairs of the Church, 
and particularly its charities to its poor 
members. 

2. That they were chosen by free suf- 
frage of the Church. 

8. That they were consecrated to their 
office by prayer and the laying on of the 
apostles' hands. 

It is true that these seven are never 
called 'deacons' in the Acts, but only 
*the seven;' but this appears to have 
grown out of the fact that the office was 
so fiuniliarly known as not to need na- 
ming; as the apostles were called *the 
twelve.' Paul writes (Phil, i: 1.) to the 
saints at Phillippi, <* with the bishops [pas- 
tors] and deacons.** And, instructing 
Timothy, (1 Tim. iii : 1-15) in regard to 
the qualifications of the officers of the 
Church, he says, " likewise must the dea- 
cons be grave, not double-tongued, not 
given to much wine, not greedy of filthy 
lucre ; holding the mystery of the faith in 
a pure conscience. And let these also first 
be proved ; then let them use the office of 
a Deacon, being found blameless." Here 
it is true that the specific duties belonging 
to the office, as established in the 6th of 



Acts, are not named ; but it is, obviously, 
because they were so commonly under- 
stood as not to require it, and so 
Paul — assuming that every one knew 
what was the fiinction of a Deacon — 
proceeded to speak of the qualifications 
which ought to be possessed by him, to 
secure the due discharge of the duty of 
his office. 

It does not appear that the Scriptural 
office of a Deacon included the idea of 
giving spiritual instruction.^ It is true 
that Stephen addressed the people on 
spiritual themes, (Acts vii : 2-53), and 
that Philip preached and baptized, (Acts 
viii : 12, 86, 40). But Stephen's address 
was not akin to a sermon, nor was there 
anything about it to indicate that, in vir- 
tue of being a Deacon, it belonged to him 
to preach. And Philip is expressly sadd 
(Acts xxi : 8) to have been an * Evangel- 
ist ;' which would imply that he had re- 
ceived the preaching office in addition to 
his Diaconate. Or if it be insisted that 
both he and Stephen preached when they 
were simply deacons, we think it would 
be a fair reply to urge that, if they did so, 
they did it in virtue of their Christianity, 
and not of their Deaconship. That was a 
time when the entire membership of the 
Church went everywhere preaching the 
Word.* And we think the facts — ^that 
their appointment was expressly and solely 
for another purpose, and that Paul, in 
writing of their needful qualifications, 
makes no mention of the ability to 
preach— settle it that they were not in- 
tended to be preaching officers. 

It has been urged by Mosheim, Kuinoel, 
Olshausen, Meyer, Whately, and others, 

1 IgnatiaB calls tbem " /?pa}/idra>y /cat irorcDv 
StCLKOvot "—deacons of meats and drinks. (Egristola 
ad TreUlianoSf II.) 

2 " Primum enim omnes docebant, et omnes bap- 
tizabant, qaibascnmque diebus vel temporibos fnis- 
set occasio ; neo enim Pbilippos tempus qaaesirit, 
aut diem quo ennaebum baptisaret, neqoe jcjuniiim, 
interposoit/' &c. ;— at first all taught, and all bap- 
tised, on whaterer days and times there was oppor* 
tnnity ; nor did Philip seek for a time or a day in 
which he might baptise the eunuch, nor did h« 
require preyious fiisting, &o. {UUary of Roma^ 
Opp, in ISphet,^ Tom. II.) 



«$ 



TM OjSm ^ J>imm. 



(Ja». 



tbat traees pf th^ DaapooAtp unp ditepr- 
erable in the fiftb chapter of die Acts, an<} 
^t this electioii of t)i9 spven could not 
have been the origin of the office. They 
jdiink thai the " young men " who carried 
put the bodies of Ananias and Sa^hira 
were deacons. And &ey refer to Luke 
{xxii : 26) and 1st Peter (v : 5), where 
the same word (i^ec&re^;) is used, witli 
apparent reference to some permanent 
office like that of the Deaconship. Bu^ 
Pavidson, ( Con^egational Lecture, 13ih 
Series)^ has sufficiently shown that this is a 
ymstake, and that the natural reference is 
merely to those who are young and active, 
^d therefore more likely to proffer their 
assistance. 

In the speedy common that came in 
ipppn the early Church, the Diaconate be- 
came perverted, with every thing else, an4 
was elevated to a sub^ministry, and, to this 
day, the hierarchal churches have made 
their deacons the third order of the clergy. 
The Puritans rediscovered and reintro^- 
dueed the office as it was understood by 
the apostles and Primitive Church. 
John Bobinson, (Works Vol. 2, p. 364.J 
in answer to Bernard's invective against 
those who separated from the English 
Church, says : " you want [i. e. you lack] 
the office of Deaconship, which Christ 
hath left by his aposdes for the collection 
and distribution of the Church's alms, and 
have entertained under the true name, a 
felse and forged (^ce of half priesthood, 
perverting and misapplying to the justifir 
cation of it, such Holy Scriptures as are 
left for the calling and ministration of 
true and lawful deacons in the Church 
of Christ ; so is there not that care for the 
bodily welfare one of another amongst 
you in any measure, whereof yea boast.'' 
Hooker (Survey of the Summe of Church' 
Discipline. 1648. Part 2. p, 35) says, 
the office of a Deacon "is to attend ta- 
bles, that hath nothing to do with Pastor's 
or Doctor's place, either of preaching or 
administering Sacraments. But this if 
to attend tables, (Aeti viiB), 1£ any 
man shaQ say, they majr atte;Qi4 hotii: 



the practice ind pvofcam fff the Apos^ 
will Qonfiite and opn^mnd iNieh It peiipei^ 
Acts 6. We will give ounfelve^ fo th4 
word and to prayer. They cpnoeived and 
concluded, they could npt do both, b9$ 
Ihey shoMld wrong both. If the Appetles^ 
who were extraordinary persons, coiil4 
potj ahall men ^ OTdinary f^biUti(99 he 
aufficient to undeigo both ?" 

John Cotton ( Way of th^ Churches </ 
!iew Eng. 1645, p, 38J says» ^ Deaconf 
therefore wee reserve in pur Chuiches, 
but without distinction of pre-eminence of 
pome of them above oUiers ; much lesse 
over the ministers and elders: neither 
doe wee imploy them about the Ministry 
of the Woni, and to prayer, and to serv^ 
tables also ; and therefore the worke whidi 
the Apostles laid doune, and which tibf 
deacons were elected and ordained to 
take up, was the serving of tables, to wi^ 
the serving of all the tables which per- 
tained to the Church to provide for, which 
lire the Lord's Table, the tables of the 
ministers (or elders) of the Church, an4 
jhe tables of the poore brethren, whether 
of their own body, or strangers," &e. 
Cambridge Platform (Chap, vii : sec. 3, 4) 
says, " The office and work of a Deacon, 
is to receive the offerings oi the Churchi 
gifts given to the Church, and to keep the 
treasury of the Church, and therewith te 
serve tiie tables which the Church is to 
provide for; as the Lord's Table, the 
tables of the ministers, and of such as are 
in necessity, to whom they are to ^^ 
tribute in simplicity. The o4^ce, theser 
fore, being limited unto the temporal 
good things of tiie Church, it eiLtends not 
to the attendance upon, and the adminis- 
tration of, the spiritual things thereof, a« 
the Word and Sacraments, and the like.*' 
Such, for substance, has been the undeiv 
standing of the New England Churchea 
to the present time. 

Dr. Hopkins says ( Works, Vol. 2, p. 82^, 
^ There are other officers in the Church, 
called deacons, who have the cm^ of die 
temporal worldly concerns of the Churcht*^ 
JBB. Dr. I>wight pay9 (Wi/^k^t Fet ^ 



1859.] 



Th$ Office ^ Pudi^on, 



69 



¥iMrm9 n^peds, to b# MiAitiwitB 4e minif' 
(era," and iMlgqef thai in the idMeoee ef 
the Fastoii, tiiey should be moderatoff 
of the Church. Dr. Woods (Wonks, YoL 
8, Lee, CXXIL)^ takes much the same 
▼iew; which may be considered the 
general understanding of the Congrega- 
tional chuxchei of the preeent time. The 
only practical difference of tentiment of 
iHnch we are aware, is in regard to the 
tenoie of the o£Eice ; some churches having 
intiodoced an abbreviated term of onef 
ihree, or five years ; while the majority 
elaet fi>r Hie. Scripture, at first gUnce, 
peemfi to fiivor the latter course, yet there 
It so precept in regard to it, nor even 
my eerUdntyihgX < the seven' were chosen 
fo life, or served fi>r life. The weight of 
precedence is decidedly with those who 
woold eleet ibr li&, yet, on onr first prin- 
riples, it most be left for each Church to 
decide whether, in its own case, reasons 
most for wisely departing fiom die old 
path, in this respect 

It was formerly cnstomary to induct 
newly elected deacons into office by a 
ppecial solemnity of ordination, and the 
neord of the 6th of Acts was appealed to 
in proof of its propriety and necesdty. 
GHBliridgB Platform recommended such 
*^ coorae, yet added that if the Church 
had no mders, the ceremony might be 
peifonMd by ^ brethren orderiy chosen 
by tiie Churoh thereto." To this it has 
heen objected ' that it is by no means ceis 
tun that tiie Apostles, in lajring their 
hands on the seven, meant anything like 
what we nnderstand by ordinition, inas* 
■ioch at it was a custom which had come 
down from the earliest ages, to lay hands 
on one fi>r whom prayer was offered. 
And, as a matter of fact, the custom has 
extensively fallen into disuse. 

J I I I ■ ■ ! II J I 

1 The reftdtr who deiiraf to ma » brUf, jet thorough 
diKiiwion €€ this nuittar, Is reftrred.to a Tery ablo 
*Ba^of«," pnpeBtsd to tho Ksstx Stnot Ohiurah in 
Boftim, Mi^ 19, IMa-HUidf ntood to bo from ^ 
ptB of BoT. Joseph Treey— whkh is pablished in the 
▲ppendiz of Pn]i«h«rd*i ** Vieyf qf Cbnfre^ oriofi^ 
6n,» JMif.e/180e. 



The questtoo may oec«r« in this eon" 
nection, what was meant by Panl when 
he said (l rm).iii: 13,) that ^they that 
have used the office of a Deaoon well, puxv* 
phase to themselves a good degree and 
great boldness in the faith, which is in 
Christ Jesus." This has often been cited 
in proof that the Diaconate is the lowest 
round of an official ladder on which ' the 
good degree ' is some higher place. The 
word (j^adfidy) translated * degree,' may 
mean either an advance in official posi- 
tion, or in personal character, happiness 
or influence. And all which it necessa- 
fHf suggests is that the Deacon who exezv 
^ed his office well would secure, in some 
way, an increase of some good thing, con^ 
nected with great boldness in the faith. 
The best commentators consider the sense 
exhausted by the interpretation, that the 
good Deacon will secure additional re* 
ppectability and influence in the Churchy 
and a higher expectancy of blessednesi 
beyond the grave. ( Vide Kendrick*9 0^ 
thawen^ VoL VL,pp, 77-80.) 

It is in place here to add a word in 
reference to the passage (1 Tim* iii: lit) 
which is often supposed to refer to dea* 
pons' wives. This is translated *^ even so 
inust their [deacons'] wives be grave," &o. 
It literally reads ** even so must the women 
be sober" (yvvdiMag cbaa<;rai; uefiy&s)' It 
is obvious that the Greek makes no,direct 
refisrence to deacons in connection with 
these * women.' Cotton Mather said, (Rai, 
Dis., 131,) ^^'Tis often inquired, when 
deacons are chosen, whether their wives 
are such as directed ; but there is a misr 
take about the meaning of the text in 
1 Tim. iii : 11. It is gunaikes, women ; 
i. e., the deaconesses, or widows ; and there 
is not one word about deaqons' wives, any 
more than the pastor's." Owing, proba* 
bly, to the peculiar seclusion imposed up*» 
on Eastern females, which might have 
made it difficult, or impossible, for the 
deacons to perform the functions of their 
office among the sisters of the Churchy 
there appears to have been a class of fhr 
male officers elected to the same workt 



70 The Caryregatumai Library Assaciatian, [J as. 

called < deaconesses.' Phoebe (Rom. xvi. the passage nnder consideration alladesto 

1,) is supposed so haye been a deaconess, them, or, at all eyents, does not allude 

So Paul (1 Tim. t : 9-15,) seems to refer specifically to the deacons' wives, as — ^in 

to the same office. And Cotton Mather the common Tendon — ^it appears to da 
was probably right in his conclusion, that 



-•-■ 



THE CONQEBGATIONAL LIBRAKT ASSOCIATION : 

rrS ORIGIN AND OBJECTS. 

BT ITS CO&BESFONDING 8BCRETART. 

In the words of its first Annual Report, pleased to traduce their piety by calling 

" this institution originated in a conviction it bigotry, and to inform us that their her- 

that the interests of Congregationalism oism did not spring from their religious 

and of Christianity in general, would be faith, but shot up in spite of it, we, who 

advanced by collecting into one accessi- claim to hold the same faith, unable Intel- 

ble place whatever printed or manuscript ligently to contradict it, were fain to ac- 

memorials of the New England Fathers cept the assertion in respectful alence, 

are yet extant, and also such documents « And only wish, 

of the present age as will be of historical ^ dutooiw som, our Ikthen wew more irtoB." 

value in the ages to come." Although But on the 5th of February, 185 1-, 
individuals had thought on the subject, a few earnest minds came together in 
and had even gone so far as to put their Boston, to compare views on the subject, 
thoughts before the public, it was not till and see if nothing could be done to 
1851, that Uiis conviction first worked itself change this condition of things. The re- 
out in the form of an associated effort suit was, the appointment of a committee 
among the Orthodox Congregationalists to draft a plan of associated action, which, 
of New England. The almost stupid on the following week, (February 12,) was 
indifference with which they had regarded adopted as the Constitution of the Con" 
the destruction that was coming upon the gregational Library Association. Among 
books, pamphlets, manuscripts, records, the foremost of these few earnest minds* 
and whatever else might serve to illu»- was the late Prof. Bela B. Edwards, whose 
trate the character and achievements of " Memoir " by Prof E. A. Park, prefixed 
their world-renowned fathers, is truly to his ** Writings," contains the following 
amazing, as we now look back upon it testimony of the lively interest which he 
A few names like those of Cotton Mather, took in promoting it Referring to the 
€rov. Hutchinson, Thomas Prince, repre- examination he made of the Red Cross 
sent the individuals — scarcely more than Library, on his visit to London in 1846, 
one in a century — who had laid this sub- his biographer says, '* After making an 
ject to heart, or taken any pains to arrest accurate survey of its various objects, 
this ruin. And there was a correspond- Mr. Edwards resolved to propose a simi- 
ing ignorance and misconception among lar institution to the Congregationalists of 
the mass of our people, respecting the New England." With this view he pub- 
practices and principles of the Puritans — lished in the Bibliotheca Sacra a detailed 
a condition of things sufficientiy humiliat- plan of such a Library, and the reasons 
ing, to say nothing of the loss which mor- for its establishment ** The proposal at- 
ality and religion suffered therefrom, tracted the notice of some opulent lay- 
Whenever a historian, or politician, or men. Hon. Samuel T. Armstrong exert- 
writer of a newspaper paragraph was edhimself in its favor, and in his last con- 



1859.] 



The Congr^atmal Library Asaoeiaiion. 



71 



Teraatioa with Mr. Edwards expressed his 
hope aad belief that the Old Soath 
Church of Boston would aid the enter- 
prise liberally. After Governor Arm- 
strong's death, Mr. Edwards, in connec- 
tion with a friend, proposed the formation 
of the Congregational Library Associa- 
tion, with the hope that such a Society 
might execute his fiivorite plan." [YoL 
L pp. 259-271.] Were he with us to- 
day he would say that the result as far 
exceeds the hopes then cherished, as it 
comes short of the possibilities now seen. 

During the first two years the member- 
ship was entirely clerical, and was con- 
fined to Boston and its Ticinity, — ^having 
for its object not only the founding of 
** a Library of books, pamphlets, manu- 
scripts, and whatoTer else shall serve to 
illustrate Puritan history and New Eng- 
land theology," but also the cultivation of 
^sacred literature, systematic Theology 
and History, both of the Christian Church 
in general, and of the New England 
churches in particular.*** After various 
changes in the working of the system, it 
gradually became apparent that, with 
some other slight modifications, the essen- 
tial idea was capable of indefinite expan- 
sion, and was quite too important to be 
longer restrained within so narrow a 
sphere; that a bond <^ Congregational 
union might be formed on this basis 
among our widely dispersed members, 
both ministers and laymen, which would 
have the two-fdd effect of joining them in 
closer ties of amity, and of attaching them 
to " the old paths" — ^** the good way** — 
in which their fathers walked and found 
** rest to their souls.'* 

Into these views the Pastoral Associa- 
tion of Massachusetts — then thirty years 
old, and of unabated vigor — entered 
heartily, and proposed to lay aside its 
clerical constitution, that it might be 
meiged with the other, in this new and 
extended organization. By the concurrent 
action of both bodies the subject was giv- 
en in charge to an able committee, May 
5, 1853| who, soon after, reported in favor 



of a reconstruction on the plan above 
named. In accordance with that report, 
and pursuant to a notice publicly given, 
a laige number of ministers and other 
gentlemen, representing all the New- 
England States and many other parts of 
the country, convened in the Old South 
Chapel, Boston, on the 25th of May (An- 
niversary week) and with great unanim- 
ity formed the present Conobeoatiok- 
Ax Library Association. The name 
which the committee had proposed for the 
re-oi^anized body was '* The American 
Congregational Union,'* as more express- 
ive of the wider sphere which the enter- 
prise was henceforth to filL But inas- 
much as, before the set time for consum- 
mating the act arrived, it was found that 
another Association of that name, similar 
in some of its features, though entirely 
different in its leading objects, had been 
formed at New York, there was a cheer- 
ful return to the original name, with the 
calm pursuasion that, whatever title it 
might take, its achievements would deter- 
mine its character and scope. To these, 
therefore, the public must look for the 
true idea of the Congregational Library 
Association. 

An Act of Incorporation was obtained 
from the Legislature of Massachusetts, 
bearing date April 12, 1854, which, with 
an addition, passed April 14, 1856, au- 
thorises the holding of real and personal 
estate to the amount of $300,000, in fur- 
therance of the objects of the Association. 

The membership of the body — " com- 
posed of ministers and laymen connected 
with the Orthodox Congregational denom- 
ination, paying each one dollar," [See Art 
III., Constitution] — already exceeds two 
thousand, with a continual increase ; and 
they are distributed over twenty-one 
States and Territories of our Republic, be- 
sides a considerable number in the neigh- 
boring British Provinces. The fraterniz- 
ing, harmonizing, co-operating influence 
exerted on the Denomination, thus held in 
brotherhood by no ecclesiastical liga- 
ments, but by affinities springing from a 



73 



Th$ Cv^y^giOisMl I^ 



[Jak. 



oMMfftQ flittli Md % coBMoa moeiay^ b 
iiotfh« lM«t iait>ti!rtiAC foralt to be l0ol> 
ed fbn It i» the amm kflaeuod, ia kiiidf 
tlial ibUoWi i» feitb ftotk tiie old betttk-* 
stone and fiunily Altar of oaf o^dhood's 
memories; and, MMnge to tell, getsth^ 
ftflter hold d* itt) tbe far&er ire go from^ 
tiiat heaitk-0toflie and altar^ 

The Library, at the predent tiitte, cofi^ 
tiuns about 5.000 bonnd volomes, 16,006 
pamphlets, more than 1,000 manmik^riptB, 
and a small collection of portraits, with 
a soffieiency of newspapers, magazines, 
(piarterUes &c., to constitute a respecta- 
ble reading-room. Nearljr all of these are 
donations or deposits fiom membei^ ; for 
tiie funds of the Association do not yet 
idlow the accomplishment <^ what had 
been designed, in thb and other depart-* 
ments of effort While these collection^ 
are all riduable, not a few of them are 
rare, and of great intrinsio worth, as will 
be shown by occasional notices in the 
Bibliographical department of this Jour- 
nal. Probably there is no place in New 
England where statistical information-^ 
particularly such as relates to the Con- 
gregational churches— can be found in 
equal fulness ; for, in addition to its own 
appropriate store, it has also, on deposit, 
the entire Library of the American Sta- 
tistical Society ; and both are constantly 
veceiying accessions. 

The written exercises at the Quarterly 
meetings, and also the Annual Discourses 
in May, afford fine opportunities for ex- 
ploring old paths, and recorering lost 
treasures, and establishing the truth or 
falsity of opinions put forth in our times 
on men and things of other days, as well 
as for discussing matters pertinent to t^e 
present wants of the Denomination. Some 
faluable contributions have thus been 
made to the common stock of knowledge, 
which will be given to the world in occa- 
sional volumes, as such materials and the 
means of printing them shall aceumulate ; 
for, in developing the various objects con- 
templated, the press will be an essential 
sudliarT; 



Bttt the gveat aoldei^eiieiit of th« Ccm^ 
gfegacioilal Library Afeoctiatioti, thus fo, 
is the pitrdiase of a building On Ghanoey 
street, Boston, to be used, (or nther tobe 
displaeed by another and khrger, whidi 
shdl be used) First, as a safe plaoe of de^ 
pont £n tiie library Had its appufte* 
naneesi Second^ as a Congrs^onal 
Home, where t^ seattend aMo^n of 
tiie fiunily may occasionally meet^ a» 
atound the old aiicestitd fireside, for con- 
sultation on matters of common Or special 
interest : Third, as the head-quarters of 
Benevolent Societies, centering in Bos- 
ton^ whose offices will thus be brought 
under one and the same loof, to the 
great convenience of the public^ ae 
well ai their own ; and last, thoogl^ not 
least, as a source of income for carrying 
out the demgns of the Association, witiioot 
calling yearly on the puUic for aid ; ad an 
institution dT this kind cannot do« It in 
an ascertained fact, that the rents now 
paid into private pockets fbr oflke-room 
by those Societies only which have ex- 
pressed a wish to be thus acoommodatedy^ 
are equal to the interest on $100,000. 
The ownership of such a building (ia 
other respects a necessity,) becomes, ia 
this view of it, an ^ndwomeni / and will 
answer the additional purpose of a fhoMk' 
ment^ in honor of men and women more 
worthy of such honor than the heroes of 
Bunker Hill. £very brick, every gran-' 
ite block, in the walls of this edifice, asita 
object becomes known to the pubHo, will 
remind the passer-by of Christian heroes, 
"whose faith, and hope, and nnghty 
deeds," had mote to do in giving birth to 
our great Republic, than the battles of 
the Revolution; whose godly examples 
and religious teachings, even now afford 
a stronger brace to the body politic than 
our fleets and armies ; and which are ca^ 
pable of exerting the same conservadve 
inflneuce as idx into the future as we are 
capable of transmitting them, through thitf 
organized agency. 

The purchase of the late Judge Jack- 
iOB^i mansioa hoase^ together with 4|469 



1859.] John Norton's « Orthodox EvangeJktr 78 

sqaare feet of land, in the spring of 1857, the list of donors, and those pastors who 
for $25,000, is universally regarded as a will hereafter see that their congregations 
wise measure, in a business point of view, have the opportunity to make that " one 
while its location in a quiet, yet central collection," in aid of the object, which 
and thriving part of the city, renders it each congregation is expecting to make, 
admirably suited to all the purposes for would be pleased to doit noio. Theprop- 
which it was bought. But it is not yet paid erty being thus disencumbered of debt^ 
for in full; and the one great want of the and all the while enhancing in value, 
Association at the present time is the there would be no difficulty in replacing 
means of lifting a mortgage, which ab- the present edifice with one of sufficient 
sorbs quite top much of the income de- capacity to answer all the purposes origi- 
rived finom the rooms let to various Socie- nally contemplated, and to afiord the 
ties in the house now occupying the site, means of accomplishing every object 
This pressing want would be relieved at which the Association stands pledged be- 
once if those benevolent individuals who fore the world to accomplish. 
itUend to have their names enrolled on 



JOHN NORTON'S " ORTHODOX EVANGELIST." 

BT BEV. JOSEPH S. CLiJlK, D.D. 

We propose to place on the pages of Norton's earliest and ablest supporters in 
-the Congregational Quarterly short his- that part of the town. 
torical notices of rare books, pamphlets. Before examining the volume the read- 
manuscripts, &c., new and old, which are er may be interested to know something 
found among the collections of the Con- about its distinguished author, 
gregadonal Library Association. This Rev. John Norton was bom May 6, 
labor is undertaken not so much to grat- 1606, at Starford, in the county of Hertford- 
ify the curious, as to guide the enquiring shire, England ; was graduated at Cam- 
— such as are investigating subjects, and bridge in 1623 ; lefl his nadve land on 
may wish to know what helps are at hand, account of non -conformity in 1685, and 
The fact that no catalogue of the Library came to Plymouth, where he was called 
has yet been printed renders a bibliogra- to settle, as he was also at Ipswich. This 
phy of this sort all the more needful. It latter call he accepted, and was ordained 
will introduce the readers of the Qnar- February 20, 1638. He was in high rep- 
terly into many a field, fragrant with flow- utation for learning on the other side of 
ers or abounding in fruit, which they the water, and not less so for piety, if we 
might otherwise be long time in finding. may accept the testimony of an aged cler- 

Preeminently deserving of such notice gyman, " that there was not more grace 
is the Tolume named at the head of this and holiness left in all Essex, than what 
article, idiich came into the Library Mr. Norton carried with him." On this 
about a year ago as a donation from Mrs. side the water he stood among the fore- 
Mary Cheat, widow of the late Col. Cheat, most in that bright constellation of schol- 
of Essex ; once a part of Ipswich where ars that here illumined a wilderness. An 
the author preached before his settlement influential member of the Synod, in 1637, 
in Boston. From autographs found on he performed his full share in crushin^r 
flyJeaves and margins, the book seems to out the Antinomian heresy ; at the re- 
have descended through the entire line of quest of his brethren he replied in Latin, 
her ancestry from Mr. John Cogswell, to the questions of the learned Appoloni- 
wlio settled there in 1635, as one of Mr. us, of Zealand, in 1645, which got him 
10 



74 



Jolm NartaviB ^ Orthodox EvamgeUst!* 



[Jan. 



great renown ; he took a prominent part 
in the Synod of 1648, which formed the 
Cambridge Platform ; and was appointed 
by the Greneral Court in 1651, to refute 
the supposed errors of T^^lliam Pjnchon's 
dialogue on Redemption and Justification. 
At the dying request of Rev. John Cot- 
ton, of Boston, Mr. Norton was elected 
his successor, and, after long and earnest 
resistance from his Ipswich flock, he was 
transferred to that important post in 1656, 
which he filled with great ability till his 
death, April 5, 1663, at the age of 57. 

The Yolume now to be noticed is in 
small quarto form, and contains 855 pages, 
with copious marginal notes, chiefly in 
Latin and Greek. The title-page, which, 
according to the taste of those times, is 
also, in some sense, a table of contents, 
reads thus: 

" The orthodox EVANGE- 
LIST, or a Treatise wherein many 
Great Evangelical Truths (not a 
few whereof are much Opposed and 
Eclipsed in this perilous hour of the Paeh 
sion of the Gospel,) are briefly Discussed, 
cleared, and confirmed: As a farther 
help for the Begeting and Establishing of 
the Faith which is in Jesus. As also the 
State of the Blessed, Where; Of the con- 
dition of their souls firom the instant of 
their Dissolution ; and of their Persons 
after their Resurrection, By John Nor- 
ton, Teacher of the Church at Ipswich 
in New England. ' For I determined not 
to know any thing amongst you, save Je- 
sus Christ, and him crucified ' — 1 Cor. 
2: 2. Moreover, I will endeavour, that 
you may be able after my decease, to 
have these things always in remembrance 
— 2 Pet 1:15. London, printed by John 
Macock, for Henry Cripps and Lodwidt 
Lloydt and are to be sold at their shop in 
Pope's head Alley, near Lombard Street. 
1654." 

It is the general impression, we believe, 
that the Puritan Divines who settled New 
England, though foremost in constructing 
an ecclesiastical system, never elalxnrated 
a system of theology, but took John Cal- 



vin's as an all-sufliciency for that matter ; 
that the nearest approach to any such 
thing, before the time of Edwards, was 
President Samuel Willard's huge foUo of 
250 lectures on the Assembly's Shorter 
Catechism, which Dr. Wisner, in his His- 
tory d the Old South Church, Boston, 
(p. 14,) calls ^ the first body of Divinity, 
and the first foUo ever printed in this 
country." It may have been the "^ first 
fi)Ho;" but if by "body of Divinity" be 
intended a systematic statement and logi- 
cal proof of the great doctrines of Chris- 
tian theology, we think that this *' Ortho- 
dox Evangelist " is deserving of that title, 
as will appear fixnn the following ** Table 
of Chapters," printed in the end of the 
volume : 

L Of the Divine Essence. 
IL Of the Trinity. 

m. Of Christ 

IV. Of the Decree. 
V. Of the Efficiency of God. 

YI. There are certain preparatory 
works coming between the carnal rest of 
the soul in the state of Nature, and efiect- 
ual Vocation. 

VII. What are the principal heads 
whereunto the substance of preparatory 
works in the full extent thereof may be 
referred. 

Vin. Whether there be any saving 
qualifications before the grace of faith, viz : 
any such qualification whereupon salva^ 
tion be certainly promised unto the per- 
son so qualified. 

IX. Of the first object of saving faith. 

X. Saving faith is the efiectof free sav- 
ing grace, that is, of grace flowing from 
God according to Election, and fixun 
Christ according to Redemption, viz : as 
the Redeemer and designed head of the 
Elect t 

XL What is the first saving gift actu- 
ally applied unto an elect soul? 
Xn. The soul is passive in Vocation. 

XIII. Of the union of the believer 
with Christ. 

XIV. Of Justification by fiadth. 

XV. Of the state of the blessed, where: 



1859.] 



Jolm Noiimii *^ Orthodox Evcmgdidr 



76 



Of the condition of their souls from the 
instant of their dissolution ; and of their 
persons after the Resurrection." 

These heads of doctrine, so methodi- 
cally arranged, do certainly disclose the 
oatiines of a theological 83r8tem. Of what 
practical type and texture it iB,4(for none 
of our present ** schools'' were then found- 
ed) may be inferred from a mere an- 
nouncement of the numerical divisions, 
in any one of these chapters. Take the 
5th, for example, ^ Of the Efficiency of 
God^ which happens to be the first that 
oocun, on opening the volume at random. 
One is struck with the numerous, yet na- 
tnral and nicely developed branches into 
which the theme ramifies under the elab- 
orate treatment of the writer, thus : 

'* In the disquisition of this subject con- 
sider : 

1. What the efficiency of Grod is. 

2. The distribution thereo£ 

8. What the concourse of the first cause 
with the second is. 

4. The necessity thereof in respect of 
the second cause. 

5. The manner of it. 

6. The chief objections against, — 

(1) The all-efflciency of God. 

(2) The all-goveming Providence 
of God. 

7. The use of this doctrine." 

The foregoing is a fair specimen of the 
general heads into which each chapter is 
divided. The subdivisions are numerous, 
but clear and logicaL Take this again as 
an illustration. 

1. ** As God, befOTe time, by one firee, 
eternal and constant, immanent act, de- 
creed the friturition of all things, so God, 
in time, by many transient acts, doth ex- 
actiy execute the same, — (to'mt) only 
what he did decree, all that he did decree, 
and according as he did decree." Each 
of these points illustrated in a few terse 
sentences, shows what the divine efficiency 
is, as that term is understood and employ- 
ed by the writer. 

2. It is " distributed into, (1) Creation ; 
(2) Providence ;" and this last again is 



divided into, (a) ** Upholding the crea- 
ture in its being, virtues, and actions ; 
and (h) Governing thereo£" This gov- 
ernment moreover, is conducted by a 
^ rule" which constitutes '* the law of na- 
ture," or <^ the moral law," according as 
the creature to which it is applied is *^ un- 
reasonable or reasonable." ^ In the gov- 
ernment of the unreasonable [L e. irra- 
tional] creature, three things are to be 
observed : first, an^ obediential power ; 
second, the impression of the will of 
the Creator concerning the creatures, 
stamped upon them from the beginning ; 
third, a propenseness of nature, which 
is a principle to do according to that law 
of nature," and called inclination or in- 
stinct, as the creature is inanimate or anir 
mate. 

3. '< The concourse [concurrence] of the 
first cause with the second, is an external 
transient influence of God upon the crea- 
ture in time, exactiy answering to the de- 
cree of Grod before time, moving upon, co- 
working with, and assisting of the second 
cause to its operations." The one is to 
the other '* as the first mover is unto the 
inferior orbs ; as an impulse, thrust, or 
put on, is unto a round body, of itself pro- 
pense to roll ; as the nurse's lifting the 
child up the stairs, is unto the child in- 
clined to go up ; as the wind is unto the 
vessel under sail, and ready upon the mo- 
tion of the stream to launch forth ; as 
light is to an open eye, yet in the dark." 

4. ^ The necessity of the concurrence 
of the first cause with the second in the 
operations thereof, appears thus : — 
(1) All creatures depend upon Grod in 
respect of their being, conservation and 
operation; (2) From the perfection of 
the first cause ; (3) It implleth a contra- 
diction that the creature should be able to 
act without dependence upon the Creator ; 
(4) As the conserving influence of Grod is 
unto the conservation of the creature, so 
is the assisting influence of God unto the 
operation q( the creature," L e. absolute- 
ly indispensible. 

5. The ^' manner'' of this concurrence 



76 



JoTm Nortmiz ^ Orthodox Emnge&str 



[Jan. 



is shown under four heads ; — (1) " It fore- 
goeth the operation of the second cause 
in order, though it be together with it in 
time; (2) It is by way of co-working 
with the second cause — as the second 
can not produce an effect without the 
first cause, so the first cause will not 
produce it without the second cause ; (3) 
The concurrence of the first cause with 
the second is immediate/' [i. e. as subse- 
quently explained, '* so as nothing is in- 
terposed ;] (4) " The first cause so con- 
curreth as it determineth the second cause 
in its operation*** This last is proved by 
these three considerations; (a) The efficien- 
cy of God is adequate to his decree ; (6) 
** There can be but one absolute determin- 
er ;" (c) " If the operation of the second 
cause were not absolutely determined by 
the decree, God might suffer disappoint- 
ment** ^ 

6. Under the head of "objections 
against the all-sufficiency, and all-gov- 
erning Providence of God,** five of the 
most gnarled and knotty are stated with 
great 'fairness and force, but only to be 
the more thoroughly refuted. There is 
not space in this brief notice to insert 
these objections or their answers. They 
constitute the largest division of the gen- 
eral subject, and develope a logical acu- 
men seldom surpassed. The reader will 
find himself greatly pleased, as well as 
improved, by following this champion of 
truth as he clears the field of sophisms, 
troop after troop, and plants an impreg- 
nable fortress at this point and that, for its 
fixture defence. 

7. The doctrine of divine efficiency 
finds its " use*' as " an antidote against 
many pestilent errors" and also as " a 
principle whence we may deduce many 
precious truths,** Among the errors that 
it guards against, are, (1) " Atheism ;" 
(2) " Epicurism ; '* (3) " Stoicism ;" (4) 
" The belief in Fortune;" (5) "Libertin- 
ism ;" (6) " The doctrine of the Jesuits ; 
(7) " The doctrine of the Arrainians. 
Among the "precious truths" dcducibic 
therefrom, are such as these : that " God*8 



t> 



i> 



decree is the rule of liis efficiency ,** that 
" God*s efficiency is answ;erable unto his 
decree ;" that " the second cause acts, and 
doth its actions as properly, really, and 
formally, as if (upon a supposition, which 
yet is impossible) there were no first 
cause ;*' (hat " the first cause acts, and 
doth all things as properly, and really, as 
if there were no second cause ; that what- 
ever dark aspects the government of God 
presents, '" so much hath he revealed, as 
that he who believeth, and walketh ac- 
cording to the rule, need not be afraid of 
his secret will. Both the decree, and the 
execution thereof (though yet unknown 
as touching infinite particulars) are for 
him, not against him." 

The book abounds in gems of thonght 
tersely expressed — fitted to point an ar- 
gument, or fiimish a motto. The compli- 
ment which John Cotton pays to the au- 
thor's style, in his preliminary address 
" to the judicious Christian reader," is 
richly merited. "Moreover, says he, 
(after praising the " exactness of the mat- 
ter") " that which adorneth the exactness 
of the matter of this discourse, is, pithy 
brevity, compacting as many things as 
words together." And he adduces the 
following singular, but highly significant 
illustration of the practical power of such 
a style of writing. " The schoolmen 
(though they be none of the soundest di- 
vines) yet of late years, have crept (for a 
time) into more credit amongst schools, 
than the most judicious and Orthodox of 
our best new writers (Luther, Calvin ^ 
Martyr, Bucer,) and the rest ; and their 
books were much more vendible, and at a 
far greater price. But what or where- 
in lay their preeminence ? Not in the 
light of divine grace (whereof most of 
them were wholly destitute ;) nor in the 
skill in tongues and polite literature^ 
(wherein they were barbarians ;) nor in 
their deeper insight into the holy Scrip- 
tures (in which they were less conversant, 
than in Peter Lombard and Aristotle i) 
but in their rational disputes with distinct 
solidity and succinct brevity** 



1859.] Amerieem Ccngregcixomai StaHdies for 1858. 



77 



Bnt perhaps the most remarkable fact 
which ihb old yolnme discloses to the 
present generation, is, that there was a 
generation here once who could actually 
read a work of snch profandity with 
edi6eation and profit That this was 
the case is presomptivelj evident from 
the author^s testimony concerning his 
own people, whose mental capabilities 
he had doubtless ascertained in the course 
of a fourteen years' ministry among them. 
In his pre&tory address to *' The Church 
and inhabitants of Ipswich," for whose 
spiritual benefit the treatise was more 
paiticularly constructed, ' he says, ** Men 
need strong meat, as well as babes need 
milk ; though he who is but a babe hath 
not the knowledge of a man, yet babes rest 
not in being babes. I have endeavored 
tasay something that might entertain the 
stroDger, yet so as (I hope,) I have 
scarce said anything that weaker capaci- 
ties may not with due attention attain 
unto.** So ^ as this was true of the Ips- 



wich people, it was probably true of their 
neighbors also — ^the population generally, 
who were then planting these New Eng- 
land towns. And the book itself gives 
internal evidence in support of Mr. Nor- 
ton's testimony; for while it shows no 
dgns of ever having been in the hands of 
a minister, or out of the family with whom 
it was found, the corrections made in 
its blundering typography, and other 
pen-and-ink traces on the margin of 
leaves, plainly denote attentive reading. 
Certainly "there were giants in those 
days," — not among the ministers and mag- 
istrates only, but among the common peo- 
ple — intellectual giants ; or an edition of 
such an abstruse and deeply metaphysi- 
cal treatise on Christian theology would 
never have been published ; or if pub- 
lished, could never have been sold, " as a 
help for the begetting and establishing of 
the fsdth " among the inhabitants of a coun- 
try parish. 



AMERICAN CONGREGATIONAL STATISTICS FOR 1858. 



BY KEV. ALONZO H. QUINT. 



** I have again numbered Israel," wrote 
a clergyman, on sending the statistics of 
his church, " but by what authority I 
know not, nor whether it will expose me 
to the divine displeasure." Whether our 
annual denominational numberinga — now 
finished — shall expose us " to the divine 
displeasure," depends upon the motives 
which have prompted us and the use we 
make of the figures. If it is to minister 
to oar denominational pride ; or to take 
to ourselves the credit for our increase ; 
or to cause reliance upon man instead of 
€rod ; or to allow us to feel that numbers 
may take the place of personal activity, 
we have sinned. But if it be done with 
a desire to praise God for what he has 
done for us ; to ascertain what the Cause 
can rightfully ask of this organized 
army; to mourn over the poor results 



achieved by so many thousands of be- 
lievers, as to pecuniary contributions, 
ministerial supply, conversions (^ sinners ; 
to see in what part of the broad field the 
labon^rs need help, and where " waste 
places " need to be occupied ; if we al- 
ways bear in mind that these figures rep- 
resent sovih^ and their varying positions 
signify the changing relations of immor- 
tal spirits, then we do well to number our 
churches. Nor is it unwholesome, but a 
matter greatly to be desired, that Congre- 
gationalists cultivate a denominational 
(not sectarian) spirit ; that they cherish 
such an esprit du corps as shall make 
their name a definite term, expressive of 
a definite meaning, and give form, shape 
and life to distinct denominational plans 
in all departments of religious activity ; 
while at the same time, they will fight no 



Y8 



American Gcngregatwnal StaUstics far 1858. [Jan. 



leas boldlf, nor stand side hy side leas 
hannonioualjr with other parts of the 
great army of belierers, for having their 
own ofi&cers and discipline. 

But any alarm as to an exact enumera- 
tion is needless ; no such census yet ex- 
ists. A melancholy approximation is all 
that can be had as to the condition of the 
denomination. To this unhappy result 
various causes contribute : Our scattered 
churches send their statistics through 
State organizations, and in several States 
no such organization exists ; where such 
do exist, that attribute, of which a learned 
Divine says original sin consists, renders 
great numbers of Pastors and Clerks re- 
morselessly negligent; when reports are 
made, they are often as definite as the 
weather predictions, covering a whole 
month in the Almanac, " expect — ^foul — 
weather — about — ^this^— time ; " it is a mel- 
ancholy fact that not a few Pastors know 
less as to how many souls they have cov- 
enanted to watch over, than as to the 
state of things in Borrioboola-Gha. When 
we add the fact that churches are not sel- 
dom reported, without even the statement 
of the fact, in other than their own States ; 
that there are a large number of churches 
unconnected with Associations or Con- 
ferences; that in several States our 
churches are mixed up with Presbyterian- 
ism, on that ** self-denying ordinance ** of 
Congregationalists, the ** Plan of Union," 
it is sufi&ciently evident that the ascertain- 
ing of our numbers, either of churches or 
members, is a "Pursuit of Knowledge 
under Difficulties.*' 

The following digest, therefore, while 
evidence of good intentions, must not be 



honored as in£iUible. Taking the statis- 
tics of the various State bodies as the 
groundwork, we have estimated the on- 
reported churches from their last previ- 
ous (or successive) reports ; have trans- 
ferred reported churches from States 
where they do not belong to States where 
they do belong ; have sorted out Presby- 
terian churches in all known cases ; have 
re-footed up the bulk of the statistics, and 
corrected the errors thereby discovered ; 
have corresponded with various well- 
informed people, and have exercised our 
own knowledge by way of modification, 
in all cases where we were gifted liiat 
way. The differences from the published 
results which thus appear, the enors 
which may still exist, and the great im- 
perfections herein exhibited, may be aft* 
tributed to the sadly chaotic state in which 
our statistics are annually presented to 
the public ; of the statistical merits or de- 
merits, and of the remedy for the latter, 
we propose to say something at another 
time. 

The Maine Conference Minutes (which 
stand at the head, a model, as a historical 
document,) furnish its statistics in excel- 
lent shape, although the summary is de- 
fective in two or three particulars. Sup- 
plying the wanting colunms, transferring a 
N. H. Church to the N. H. tables, and 
sending another Church home to New 
Brunswick, we find 242 churches, organ- 
ized into 14 County Conferences, which 
are composed of both clergy and laymen 
as they ought to be, and nnited into a 
General Conference, whose statistics for 
1857 and 1858 compare as follows : 



Obuschss. 



Tear. 
1867 
1858 



Withputor. 
89 



With St rap. Yaoaat. Total. 
96 53 238 

98 55 242 



MlKXBTBBB. 



Pastors. 

89 
89 



St sup. 
72 
76 



Others. 
46 
36 



TOTAI.. 

207 
201 



GnuBOH MwraiM. 



AODCnOHB. 



Year. Hales. Fern. Total. Absent. ProC Let. Total. D*th. 

1857 4,525 9,608 16,648 2,466 462 243 695 265 

1858 4,924 10,481 17,699 2,537 1,407 478 1,885 294 



BXXOTALB. 



Baptoiis. 



Dis. Ezo. Total. Ad. Inf. 
294 23 582 205 266 
550 45 889 689 311 



Sab. 

SOBOOL. 

18,672 
19,425 



Showing a net gain of 4 churches, 1054 members, 758 in the Sabbath Schools, 



1859.] Ammcfm Congregational SiaHttia for 1858. 



79 



and an excess of 1190 in the additions in 
1857-8 over those in 1856-7, a partial ex- 
hibition of the lesnlt of recent reviyals. 

'^ Males" and ** Females'* are but par- 
tially reported, but we insert the figures 
to show the proportion of one to the 
other. The colomns of " Church mem- 
bers^ refer to the time of taking the enu- 
meration; the "additions," "remoyals** 
and " baptisms" cover the one year pre- 

TlOIIfl. 

In the above figures it will be noticed 
that 76 stated supplies minister to 98 
churches ; this is accomplished by having 
one man officiate at several contiguous 
placefl : this method is being adopted in 
other States, and is admirably fitted not 
only to relieve destitutions but also to 
destroy dependence on eleemosynary in- 
stitations. It will be seen, iJso, that the 
average membership of the churches is 
73 and a fraction ; 89 of the churches ex- 
eeed this membership, and 158 fall below 
it. An examination will disclose the fact 
that 210 incorporated places are supplied 
with churches (two towns uniting, in five 



cases,) so that an equal number are 
still unsupplied with churches of our de- 
nomination ; six churches are recorded as 
having " no ordinances ;" two others are 
ominously stated to have made " no re- 
port for several years ;" 18 churches have 
less than ten members each. All of these 
matters are in the province of that noble 
institution the " Maine Missionary Socie- 
ty," which has done and is doing much 
for the Cause in that State. 

According to the New Hampshire 
Minutes, every Church is reported, and 
a very decided improvement over the 
statistics of 1857 is exhibited; all the 
points about which we wish to learn are 
clearly set forth. To ascertain the com- 
parative condition of the churches, we 
build up the waste places in the statistics 
of 1857, correct certain errors in the ad- 
dition of columns, in 1858, add a Church 
reported in the Maine figures in each 
year, and subtract, in each year, those 
Presbyterian churches which, though ex- 
cellent in their way, do not walk in our • 
way, and we have the following results : 



Chuschu. 



MnnsTKU. 



1857 
1858 



WlUipaator. With st. rap. Yaeant. Total. 
93 54 38 185 

86 66 32 184 



Pastors. 
93 
86 



St. sup. 
54 
64 



Others. 
27 
31 



Total. 
174 
181 



CHDICH MxlfBIBS. 



AoDinoifB. 



RSMOVAIS. 



Tf 

1857 
1858 



Males. Fern. Total. Absent. Prof. Let. Total. D*th. Dis. 
5,691 12,009 19,179 .... 583 334 917 312 421 
5,571 11,880 20,363 3,371 1,300 456 1,756 399 624 



Baptisms. 

. , — *- — * Sab. 

Ezo. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 

18 749 276 273 

27 1,054 660 373 20,868 



According to these statistics, churches 
of oar denomination are found in 167 of 
the towns or other incorporated places in 
New Ebmpshire, leaving 72 unsupplied ; 
in quite a number of the remaining, either 
stated supplies are located or Home Mis- 
sionaries employed. The average mem- 
benhip of the churches is 110 and a frac- 
tion; 75 exceed tiiis membership, and 109 
fall below it ; one Church only, has less 
than 10 members ; 104 have less than 100 
members each; 2 churches have each 
between 400 and 500, and one . exceeds 



500. The reports of the churches are 
made through 14 clerical Associations. 

It is a luxury to turn from the meagre, 
defective, ungainly statistics which Ver- 
mont furnished in 1857, to the excellent 
tables of 1858, and to find them in the 
handsomest pamphlet of our whole series. 
It is unfortunate that 22 reports this year 
are old ones copied, but 39 were similarly 
situated the year before. A few church- 
es are not reported, whose want it is easy 
to supply, with the following result : 







American Congregatmal Staiislkifor 1858. [Jak, 



CHTTBCHn. 



MuriBTBBS. 



..Ate 



TcAr. 

1857 
1858 



With pastor. With st. sap. Vacant. Total. 
69 71 53 193 

66 83 41 190 



Pastors. 
70 
67 



St. sup. 
69 
78 



Others. 
55 
50 



Total. 
194 
195 



GHUBOH MtMBKM. 



ADDITI0K8. 



RjQIOVALS. 



Baptisms. 



Tear. Males. Fem. Total. Absent. Prof. 

1857 3,838 6,870 17,214 2,140 315 

1858 5,404 10,307 19,656 2,476 715 



Let. Total. D'th. Dls. 
301 616, 205 326 
405 1120 334 480 



Sab. 



Exc Total. Ad. Inf. School. 

16 747 •• 147 

15 811 338 257 13,763 



Showing a net loss of 3 churches, and a 
giun of 2,442 members, and that 504 more 
persons were received in 1857-8, than in 
1856-7. 

Three churches have less than 10 mem- 
bers each ; 5 churches number between 
300 and 400; and one exceeds 400. The 
average is 103 and a fraction ; 6 7 churches 
have 100 or more each, and 123 have 
less. 

The experience of New Hampshire 
and Vermont exhibits in a marked degree 
the true dependence of the churches. For 
several years previous, steadily decreas- 
ing numbers had filled Christians with 
alarm ; a year has passed by, ' and al- 
though the tide of emigration has not 
been " turned," the " captivity of Jacob " 
has been, and the numbers show that Uie 
true reliance of churohes is upon the power 
of the Holy Ghost 

The statistics of the Massachusetts 
General Association, although they go to 



press in July, are made up only to the 
1st of January preceding; hence they do 
not exhibit the result of the revivals; 
those will appear in the statistics now col- 
lecting. The tables show, however, that 
the denomination is as strong and grow- 
ing in its earliest American home, as ever, 
although its increase in churches by no 
means equals that which followed the ex- 
pulsion of our people from the homes of 
their fathers thirty years ago. The ex- 
act facts it is now comparatively easy to 
ascert^dn, as every Church in quasi-con- 
nection with the General Association ii 
reported in the tables, and the two others 
are well known — a result attributable to 
the statistical plans in which Massachu- 
setts has taken the lead ; out of the 6720 
specific items due in the tables, only 44 are 
in any way defective, and of these, 26 be- 
long to 2 churCihes which failed to report 
additions, &c., but which probably meant 
" none." 



Chuhchis. 



MlHISTKRS. 



Tear. 
1857 
1858 



With pastor. With st. sap. Vacant. TotAL. 
342 60 75 477 

349 63 70 482 



Pastors. 
352 
358 



St. sup. 
66 
63 



Others. 
157 
165 



Total. 
567 
586 



GHUaOH MUIBEBS. 



Addftioks. 



RUfOVALS. 



Baptisms. 



Sab. 



Tear. Males. Fem. Total. Absent Prof. Let. Total. DHh. Dis. Exc. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 

1857 21,057 45.548 68,094 10,389 1,848 1,710 3,558 1,181 1.849 155 3.185 795 1,370 70.502 

1858 21,426 46,668 69,466 10,614 2,993 2,027 2,020 1,135 1,949 87 3171 1293 1,411 73,210 



Showing a net gain of 5 churches, 1,352 
members, and 2,708 in Sabbath Schools, 
and that 1,478 more were received to the 
churches in 1857, than in 1856. 

Of the Massachusetts churches, seven, 
at least, have only a nominal existence. 
Of the whole number, 198 have less than 
100 members each; 177 have 100 and 
not 200 ; 63 have 200 and not 300 ; 31 
have 300 and not 400 ; 7 have 400 and 



not 500 ; 3 have 500 and not 600 ; 1 has 
600 and not 700; 1 has 700 and not 800, 
and 1 has 800. In 26 towns, there appear 
to be no churches of our denomination, 
but there is evangelical preaching in all 
of these, and in most of them are Ortho- 
dox Congrcgationalists who are constitu- 
ent parts of accessible churches in adjoin- 
ing towns. Massachusetts Congregation- 
alism id still able, under the blessing of 



1869.] Ameriean Oonffr^atmal StaUdies/or 1868. 



81 



God, to hold its own, even while it sends 
oat its swanns to new States, or ndses up 
under its sturdy training those who be- 
come the most stalwart men ot Fresbyte- 
nanism. 

The Evangelical Consociation of Rhode 
Island numbers 21 churches, with no 
intermediate Associations or Consocia- 
tionfl. In the statistics of 1858, for which 
we waited patiently, all the churches, save 
one, report themselyes. Of that one^ a 
firiend writes us, " it [the blank] is not 
the &nlt of ... . our Statistical Secre- 



tary, nor of the rest of us. We have 
tried hard enough to wrench statistics 
from a rock." A Church which is guilt- 
less of ordinary courtesy should leave the 
Consociation. While the table is greatly 
improved over that of last year, thus one 
Church mars its fair look. We commend 
to all concerned, Ecclesiastes x : 1. 

The Church in Fall River has left the 
Consociation; but as it is not reported 
elsewhere, we keep it in its old place this 
year ; and, filling up defects, we find mat- 
ters thus: 



Gruiobib. 




MiHums. 


T«w. WltiipMtor. WiUift. Bap. VMant. 

1867 17 3 2 

1868 17 8 2 


TotaXn 
22 
22 


PftBton. St. sap. 
17 3 
17 3 




0th«n. Total. 
20 
20 




ADSmOMg. 


Rkmotals. 




Baptums. 

a.. 


Tmt. Maki. f «&. Total. AlMent. Prot 
1857 8,241 •••• 72 


Let. Total. D*th. Dia. Bxe. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 

52 124 33 55 2 90 27 34 4,210 

101 296 49 72 12 133 106 45 4,126 



Showing a gain of 153 members, a loss of 
84 in Sabbath Schools, and that the num- 
ber of additions in 1857, was double the 
number in 1856. 

The R. L churches average 154 mem- 
bers each; 9 exceed that number; 7 
churches have less than 50 each ; of which 
one has less than 20. 

The CoNNSCTicuT statistics, which are 
too good not to be better, have all the 
columns deared except * Sabbath Schools,' 
and several that are neither ornamental 
nor usefuL The absence of indexes, the 



heterogeneous arrangement of towns and 
Associations, the irreconcilableness of ta- 
bles and summary, the far greater num- 
ber of unreporting churches, and that ab- 
sence of ciphers which leaves us in painful 
suspense, whether the blanks signify hon- 
esty, ignorance, or laziness, — ^render these 
tables less satisfactory than those of the 
o^her N. £. States. Nevertheless, we be- 
lieve that we have supplied the wanting 
figures with sufficient care to make the 
following comparison reliable : 



CHUftOHSS. 



Uunsms. 



T« 

1857 
1858 



With pMtor. With St rap. Vacant. Total. 
196 45 42 283 

177 37 68 282 



Pastors. 
200 
180 



St. rap. 
45 
37 



Others. 
120 
115 



Total. 
365 
331 



ChITBCB MtMBMS. 



Additions. 



RjQIOVALS. 



Baptismb. 



Tisr. Males. Icn. Total. Ahsent. 

1857 11,429 22,026 42,967 3,115 

1858 10,823 21,969 42,073 3,118 



Prot Let. Total. D'th. Dis. 
939 745 1,684 548 891 
925 766 1,691 608 839 



Sab. 
£zo. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 

75 1,514 372 760 

48 1,495 360 713 



Showing a loss of one Church, and of 894 
members. 

The Connecticut churches average, 
each 145 and a fraction; 104 (perhaps 
more,) exceed this number ; S churches 
have less than 20 members each, none 
less than 10. There are 15 Associations. 

11 



Congregationalism in New York is in 
a peculiar position. On the one hand a 
large number of churches (about 100,) 
are Independent, and on the other, about 
125 arc connected with Presbyterianism 
through the " entangling Alliance." Be- 
tween these stand Uiose churches which 



82 



American Coi^regational Statistics for 1858. [Jan. 



are connected with ihe General Asso- this source of error (which leads the 
ciATiox ; and of these latter only can re- '* Year Book " to enumerate these church- 
ports be had. The rery creditable Min- es twice,) will, with some others, be cor- 
utes recently issued furnish a good degree rected in due time by the faithful Statisti- 
of knowledge as to the statistics, although cal Secretary, who has already, to our 
the churches located in New Jersey should knowledge, OYorcome great and peculiar 
have their position stated ; and those of obstacles in his department Making 
that State and of Pennsylvania should these changes, and correcting an error or 
have a separate place in the Summary ; two, we find the comparison thus : 



Ghubohu. 



MonsTBU. 



Tetf. With pMtor. With st. sap. Vacant. Total. 

1857 124 61 175 

1858 45 107 26 178 



Paston. 
44 
45 



St. lap. 
85 
72 



OUien. 


Total. 


45 


174 


68 


185 



Gbttboh MiMBm. 



ADDinOKS. 



RmOTALB. 



Baptoms. 



Bab. 



Tear. Malea. Vmn, Total. Abaent. Prot JmL Total. D*th. Dia. Szo. Total. Ad. Isf. SohoqIm 

1857 4,708 8,116 14,682 848 757 633 1,476 152 524 61 833 268 387 10,487 

1858 5,392 9,467 16,778 1,003 1,694 707 2,401 197 678 48 923 747 478 U,921 

Showing a net gain of S churches, of Oberlin, Ohio, has fallen back since 1857, 



2,096 members, and of 1,434 in Sabbath 
Schools, and that 925 more persons united 
with the churches in 1857-8, than in 
1856-7. 

The average membership of the New 
York churches (which are formed into 12 
Associations,) is 94 and a fraction ; 64 
churches exceed that number; one — the 
Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, reports 1,063 
members, by which it appears to be the 
second in size of all our churches, unless 



when it reported 1^26. 

Almost our only information as to Con- 
gregationalism in New Jersey is derived 
from the New York statistics, where we 
find three churches which we infer to be 
located in New Jersey, although, by some 
remarkable oversight, no intimation of that 
fact appears. The three are the churches 
in Chester, Newark and Patterson ; anoth- 
er is reckoned in the ** Year Book," with 
88 members ; these statistics compare thus : 



Chdrohm. 



MonsTiBf. 



Tear. WiUi paator. With at. sup. Vacant. Total. 

1857 3 .... 3 

1858 4 .... 4 



Paatois. 
3 

4 



St. sup. 



Othen. 
1 
1 



TotAL. 

4 
5 



CHimCB MSMBXBS. 



ASDITIORS. 



RnroTAU. 



BApnnts. 



Bab. 



Tear. Malaa. Vem. Total. AlMwot. Prof. I^et Total. D^th. Dia. Sxo. Total, Ad. Inf. Sobool. 

1857 221 418 639 15 24 30 54 5 18 .. 23 9 10 300 

1858 227 463 728 31 113 28 141 15 23 4 42 48 13 450 



Showing a gain of 89 members, and of tier, are included in the Greneral Associa- 



150 in Sabbath Schools. 

Pennsylvania is another State where 
Congregationalism hardly has a ** local 
habitation and a name." We are aware 
of no organization to bind the churches 
together, and hence there are no com- 
plete reports. Some few churches, how- 
ever, bordering on the New York fron- 



tion of that state, and one (Conneaut,) in 
that of Ohio. Otiiers are enumerated in 
the Congregational Year Book ; from these 
sources we compile the following, noting 
that for only the 6 churches found in the 
N. Y. Minutes, and the one in those of 
Ohio, are additions, &c., given, and for 
the last named, only in 1857. 



1859.] Americtm CongregtHtmai SttHsHes for 1858. 



83 



Chukoebs. 



HlHUTIBS. 



Tmt. With pastor. With tt. tup. Taoftot. 
1857 16 2 8 

1858 



• • 



Total. 
26 
27 



PMton. 
16 



St. sop. 
2 



Others. 
1 



Total. 
19 
22 



Obvech MsMBna. 



ADDinom. 



Rbmotals. 



BAPTHIfS. 



Tf 
1867 

1858 



]ai« 



Yam. 



Sab. 



•••• 



Total. Abaent. Prof. Let. Total. D'th. Dis. JExo. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 
1,671 .. 2 II 13 .. 15 1 16 .. 9 325 
1,440 .. 24 10 34 1 3 .. 4 13 2 .... 



At no distant period we propose publish- 
ing an account which shall be of some 
•ervicc. 

The Ohio Greneral Conference, which 
was organized at Mansfield, Jan. 24, 
1852, unites the bulk of the Congrega- 
tional charches of that state ; but ** our 
Minntes,** writes the Statistical Secretary, 
** are not published, and, in all probability. 



will not be this year." Under these cir- 
cumstances we have concluded to insert 
the entire Summary for 1858, which we 
have .procured through the courtesy of 
Rer. Henry Cowles, of Oberlin. 

The statistics for 1857, (every column of 
which we were obliged to add up for our- 
selyes,) were as follows : 



Gbubcbm. 



Withi>Mtort. With Bt sop. Vacant. Total. 

as 40 30 108 



BfiHiams. 



Paston. 
31 



St sap. 
36 



Othan. 
37 



Total. 
107 



ChUBCH MXVBBIS. 



Additioto. 



Males. Fem. Total. Absent. Prof. Let. Total. 
1297 .... 8,774 .... 281 267 765 



Rjqiotals. 



.J^. 



Baptisms. 



8ab. 



D'th. DU. Ezo. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 
50 248 15 313 87 82 6,734 



For 1858: covering, as before, from July 1, to July 1. 



Hnrmnf. 



HoNiT RAism. 



CoimAuzvoH, Jto., 

1. Grand River Association, 

2. North East Conference, 

3. Cleveland 

4. Puritan 
6. Medina 

6. Central North Association, 

7. Marietta Conference, 

8. Miami, 



Chorohes. Pantors. St. rop. Total. Parish nses. 



•< 
it 



i< 



Total in Conferences, 
9. Not in Conference, 

TOTAI- 



12 
18 
14 
12 

7 
13 
10 

8 

94 
20 

114 



1 

6 
2 
1 
5 
5 
3 

23 
1 

24 



4 
8 
9 
9 
4 
2 
3 
5 

44 
13 

57 



5 
8 
15 
II 
5 
7 
8 
8 

67 
14 



|||3,870 
3,418 

11,893 
8,152 
1,850 

10,763 
3,295 

22,745 

65,976 
5,702 



Bener. 
^39 
1,125 
1,223 
1,535 
441 
1,317 
1,234 
1,777 

9,091 
12,724 



Total. 
$4,309 
4,543 
13,116 

9,687 
2,291 

12,070 
4,529 

24,522 

75,067 
18,426 



81 $71,678 1^1,815 $93,493 



GovrsE' 

ITCIS. 

1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
8. 



Gh. MufBcas. 



Males. Fem. Total. Abaeot. 
233 392 625 82 
307 397 797 

897 1,160 2,058 
297 592 949 



111 
129 
214 
203 



166 
U\ 
403 
379 



277 
678 
617 
726 



48 
81 
68 
24 
47 
125 
69 



Additions. 



BlMOfALS. 



Baptisms. 



Prof: Let. Total. D*th. Dis. £xo. Total. Ad. Inf. 



47 30 

33 30 

145 102 

40 33 

7 4 

57 42 

32 19 

47 76 



77 
63 

247 
73 
11 
99 
51 

123 



7 24 
15 19 

8 111 
12 34 

2 13 

8 44 



4 35 
34 

5 124 



4 

4 



49 
43 



4 
4 
8 
6 




50 
19 
60 
59 
47 



17 

9 16 

43 U 

6 26 



3 
4 



TotaL 2,391 3,730 6,727 544 
9. 292 534 941 46 



3 
17 



16 20 
10 29 



408 336 744 60 3.37 31 428 108 122 
22 37 59 14 34 6 54 17 20 



Bab. 
School. 
385 
925 
734 
876 
385 
559 
413 
902- 

6178 
938 



Total. 2,68a 4,260 7,668 690 430 373 803 74 371 37 482 125 142 6116 



84 



American CangregaHonal StaUstics for 1858. [Jiir. 



Showing an apparent gain of 6 churches, 
and an apparent loss of 1,106 members; 
but of this last we have no certaintjr, inas- 
much as the papers furnished us do not 
tell how many churches are imreported 
in 1858, while all in 1857 were reported. 
Indiana is another obscure field. It 
has a General Association, but does not 
yet publish its statistics. In 1857 it had 
33 churches, of which 13 were vacant; 
the 20 remaining were supplied hy 14 
ministers, with 1,178 members. We pre- 
sume we should not greatly err, to insert 
the same number of members the present 
year, though from advance sheets, we see 
that the Year Book gives but 30 churches 
and 788 members. Some of these chur- 
ches are now in an encouraging state of 
prosperity, but the most are scattered, 
weak in numbers and resources, ntiisre- 
presented by their enemies and misun- 



derstood by^e world. Of Congregation- 
alism in Indiana, probably the sentence 
printed in our school-boy Atlases, on tiie 
interior of Afriqa, would do very well : 
^ This country has never been explored." 
If "to err is human," the Illinois 
General Association is richly endowed 
with humanity ; their statistics are a tissue 
of errors from beginning to end. Out of 
nine Associations, only ofie is added np 
with tolerable correctness — a fact which 
reconciles us to the absence of addition in 
the Smnmary. Unless it is the way they 
add out there, we cannot account for a 
publication which, evidently, nobody ever 
had charge of. An amount of labor 
worthy of a better cause, gives us the fol- 
lowing, which includes one Church from 
the Wiscondn Minutes, and excludes St 
Louis, Mo. : 



Chxtrchks. 



MlKI>TKB8. 



Te«r. 

1857 
1858 



With pastor. With st. sop. Vacant. Total. 
128 ^ 29 167 

128 31 159 



Pastors. St. sup. Others. Total. 
129 34 163 

124 28 152 



Chvkoh Mkmbebs. 



ADDITXOirS. 



RUfOVALS. 



Baptisms. 



JU. 



Tear. Males. Fein. Total. Absent. Prof. Let. Total. D^th. Bis. 

1857 9,310 .... 549 754 1,303 92 512 

1858 3,167, 4,766 10,250 1,472 1,214 1,077 2,291 88 625 



Sab. 



Xzc. Total. Ad. Inf. Scbool. 
26 630 336 8,721 

34 747 351 291 10,139 



Showing a net gain of 2 churches, 940 
members, and 1,418 in Sabbath Schools. 
The Illinois churches seem to average 65 
and a fraction ; 31 churches exceed 100 
in membership, of which 4 exceed 200, 
and one of the four exceeds 300. The 
figures show at least a good degree of 
progress in the State. 

The Michigan statistics for 1858, re- 
mind us very strongly of the boy whom a 
traveller found loitering about, minus a 
certain very useful garment; "where's 
your shirt, my boy V " said he. " Moth- 



er's washing it," was the reply, uttered in 
decidedly contemptuous tones. "Wash- 
ing it ! Haven't you more than one shirt ?" 
said the traveller. "Would ye have a 
fellow have a thousand shirts .* " was the 
surly and conclusive answer. The Mich- 
igan statistics furnish two columns, with a 
sovereign disdain of the other items which 
other Bodies waste paper upon. Those 
two will be discovered by examining the 
following table, in which, by ingenious 
arrangement, we have manufactured sev- 
eral columns : 



Chusohbs. 



HinisTBms. 



Tear. 
1857 
1858 



With pastor. With st. sap. Vacant. Total. 
75 35 110 

86 29 115 



Pastors. St. sup. Others. Total. 
61 23 84 

76 14 90 



Cbtjbch Mxmbku. 



Additiokb. 



RSMOTALS. 



Baptibhs. 



Sab. 



Tear. Males. 
1867 .... 

loOo • • • • 



Vem. Total. Absent. Prof. Let. Total. DHh. Dis. £zc. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 
.... 5,574 .... 295 303 598 51 191 26 268 

. . • • O, loo ...a ... .*• OZU •• •.• .. ... .. .. ..•• 



1859.] American Coi^egdioml StaUdicifor 1858. 



85 



B J wliich we learn there has been a gain 
of 614 members, and a great decline in 
statistical energy. 

The Wisconsin Presbyterian and Con- 
gregational Convention unites 180 Con- 
gregational chorches in Wisconsin, 1 
Congregational Church in BUnois, and 1 
in Minnesota, with 28 Presbyterian 
churches. The imion of the two denomi- 
natioos oan hardly be very perfect, inas- 
much as there are 25 Old School and 44 



New School Presbyterian churches be- 
ddes. The wisdom of the union is none 
of our business, but the figures are ; and 
we are particularly obliged to the Statis- 
tical Secretary for, this year, designating 
the denominational character of each 
Church. Transferring the two churches 
to their respective States, adding two 
from the Minnesota statistics, subtracting 
the Presbyterians in each year, and fill- 
ing up defects, we find the following : 



Ohukchxs. 



1857 
1868 



WHh pMtor. ynOx tt. 
24 77 

17 92 



■op. 



Yacant. 
30 
23 



Total. 
131 
132 



PMton. 
22 
17 



Monfms. 



St. tap. 
74 
82 



Otbert. 
23 
33 



Total. 
129 
132 



Chubch KmiBH. 



AosmoRB. 



EmOTALS. 



Tc 

1857 
1858 



MiJm. 7«m. 



Total. 

5,915 

7,242 



AlMent. 

. • • • 
526 



Prof. Iitt. Total. D'th. Dis. 

492 598 1,090 59 359 

1,078 763 1,841 73 391 



Baptums. 

^ 4 — * — ^ Sab. 

Eso. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 
34 452 166 218 5,242 
58 522 401 353 7,518 



Showing a net gain of one Church, 1,327 
members, 2,276 in Sabbath Schools, and 
that the number of persons joining by 
profession in the. latter year, was more 
than double that of the former. The 



churches average, each, 54 and a fraction. 
The Iowa statistics are not as good as 
they will be next year, but they might be 
a great deal worse. The eight Associa- 
tions foot up as follows : 



Chdrohu. 



T««r. 
1857 
1858 



With PMtor. With St. fup. Vacant. Total. 
10 58 36 104 

13 59 48 120 



Paaton. 
10 
13 



HI1VI8TBB4. 



St. sup. 

56 

59 



others. 

17 
33 



Total. 
83 
105 



1857 
1858 



CBUBOB MlMBSBS. 



Additxorb. 



MalaB. Ytai. 



Total. 
3,542 
4,123 



Abient. 



Prof. Let. 
193 393 
506 427 



RXMOTAU. 



Total. D^h. Dta. 
596 39 193 
933 27 217 



Baptisms. 

> . — * . Sab. 

Eze. Total. Ad. Inf. School. 
13 245 48 95 2,743 
21 265 156 139 4,118 



The statistics of the Minnesota Gen- churches, was 31. The Minutes for the 

eral Conference for 1857, included only present year have not been issued; but 

one pdnt, viz : that of the number of the Statistical Secretary furnishes us the 

churches, which, excluding the Wisconsin following summary for 1858 : 



Gbubohxs. 



HnmrtEB. 



1857 
1858 



With pastor. With st. sup. Vacant. 

• • • • • • 

8 21 18 



Total. 
81 
42 



Pastors. 

. . 
8 



St. sap. 
21 



others. 

• . 
8 



Total. 

• • 

27 



Cbuboh MBUBims. 



AsDRnirs. 



RSMOTALS. 



Baptums. 



Tsar. Males. 
1858 474 



Sab. 



Pem. Total. Absent. Prof. Let. Total. D*th. Die. Eze. Total Ad. Inf. School. 
524 998 71 127 267 394 5 35 .. 40 40 39 



We are aware of but one Congrega- 
tional Church in Missouri ; that of Dr. 
Post in St. Louis, which is reported, or 
purports to be, in the Illinois Minutes. In 



1857, this Church reported 160 members ; 
11 additions by profession, and five by let- 
ter ; one removed by death, and two by 
dismission. In 1858, it makes no report 



86 



American Cariffr^atianal JSUaUstM/ar 186& [Jak. 



There appear to have been, in 1857, 6 
churches in Nebraska, with 2 mimstera 
and 92 members; the advance sheets of 
the Year Book inform us that in 1858 
there are 8 churches, with 4 ministers, 
and 144 members. 

The General Association of Kansas, 
from the recent date of its origin, and 
other causes easily understood, furnishes 
no Terj satisfactory statistics. According 
to the statistics of 1857, there were 8 
churches, having 7 pastors or stated sup- 
plies, with 85 members, — two of the 
churches making no report There were 
also 3 Societies without churches, and six 
ministers. This number of churches dif- 
fers from the number as given in last 
year's Year Book, where several preach- 
ing stations, or Societies, are inserted as 
churches. For the present year we have 
no other information than that contained 
in the Year Book for 1859, which may 
perhaps need modification from the cause 
above alluded to, and which gives 18 
churches, 13 ministers, and 139 members. 



According to last year's Year Book, 
there appear to have been 13 churches in 
Oregon, and 10 ministers. At the ses- 
sion of the Oregon Aasociation, held at 
Forest Grove, Washington County, it ap- 
peared that Oregon contains eight Congre- 
gational churches, 18 stations, 284 Church 
members, and 238 in the Sabbath Schools. 
This apparent falling off is evidently due 
to an incorrect estimate the previous year. 

The statistics of California are so 
painfully heterogeneous in their nature, 
both for 1857, and 1858, as almost to defy 
reduction to any order. Our sympathies 
with our brethren on the Pacific coast 
would be greatiy heightened if they would 
furnish, a littie more carefully, the infor- 
mation we need. The publications of that 
Greneral Association for the two years are 
entirely different from the statistics as pub- 
lished in the Year Books, as any one will 
see who will compare the reports of the 
latter with the following tables, which we 
have constructed with great misgivings : 





Ghukobbs. 




MnnsTXRs. 


Yenr. 

1857 
1858 


With pastor. With st. sup. Vacant. Total. Pastors. 
8 6 8 12 8 
8 4 4 11 8 


St. sup. Othen. Total. 
6 6 15 
5 7 15 




Chubcr Mimbibs. ADsinoirs. 




Rxmotals. Baptisms. 


Tear. Males. Pern. Total. Absent. Prof. Let. Total. 
1857 - . 463 . . 


D'th. 


Dis. Xzo. Total. Ad. Infl School. 
536 


1858 


515 67 77 48 128 


4 


17 8 24 17 20 828 



The following tables contain a summary 
of the preceding statistics for the years 
1857, and 1858. That they are to be re- 
ceived with great allowance is evident 
from the foregoing remarks. It is also to 
be taken into consideration that in addi- 
tion to the number of churches enumer- 
ated below for 1858, there are at least 
225 other churches, Independent, or con- 
nected with Presbyterians ; and also that 
243 of the 2,367 churches enumerated 
make no report of additions or losses. It is 
supposed, however, that the number of 
Church members is given with sufficient 



exactness, inasmuch as those who cannot 
be counted, are hardly worth counting. 
It will be seen, also, that in only a portion 
of the States do they have any children — 
a very surprising feature when we con- 
sider the rapid growth of our country. 

Outside of the United States the Year 
Book enumerates 79 churches in Canada, 
with 55 ministers and 3,712 members; six 
churches, four ministers, and 420 mem- 
bers in Jamaica, three churches and three 
ministers in New Brunswick, and two 
churches with two ministers in Nova 
Scotia. 



1869.] American Chngregationai StoHsties far 18( 

THE GHUBGHES AND HINISTEBS IN 1857: 



87 









GHuacHCt. 










MurWTXBB. 




• 


WithpMtaK 


^tiltt.Mip. 


Taeant. 


TOTAA. 


PmIoxs. Bt. rap. 


Otl^en. 


Total. 


Maine, 


88 




96 


53 


238 


89 




72 


46 


207 


New Hampihire, 


93 




54 


38 


185 


93 


• 


54 . 


27 


174 


Yennont, 


69 




71 


53 


193 


70 




69 


55 


194 


MasMchiuetts, 


342 




60 


75 


477 


352 




60 


157 


567 


Bhode Island, ' 


17 




3 


2 


22 


17 




3 


• • • 


20 


Gonnecticat, 


196 




45 


42 


283 


200 




45 


120 


366 


New York, 




124 




51 


175 


44 




85 


45 


174 


New Jenej, 


3 




• • 


• • 


3 


3 




• • 


1 


4 


Pennaylyania, 


16 




2 


8 


26 


16 




2 


1 


19 


Ohio, 


88 




40 


30 


108 


31 




36 


37 


107 


Indiana, 




20 




13 


33 




14 




• • 


14 


niinoia. 




128 




29 


157 




L29 




34 


163 


Michigan, 




75 




35 


110 


\ 


61 




23 


84 


Wisconain, 


24 




77 


30 


131 


22 


• • 


74 


23 


129 


Iowa, 


10 




58 


36 


104 


10 




56 


17 


83 


Miaaouri, 


1 




• • 


• • 


1 


1 




• • 




1 


lOnnesota, 


• • 




• • 


• • 


31 


• • 




• • 




• • 


Nebraaka, 


2 




• • 


3 


5 


2 




• • 




2 


Kanaaa, 




7 




2 


8 




12 






12 


Oregon, 


• • 




• 
• • 


• • 


13 


• • 




• • 




10 


California, 


8 




6 


3 


12 


3 




6 


6 


15 


Total, 


• • • • 




• • • • 


503 


2,315 


• • • • 


• 


• • • 


■ • • • 


2,344 



THE MEMBERSHIP OF THE CHURCHES IN 1857, AND THEIR CHANGES THE 

YEAR PRECEDING : 







GnuaoH MwraKaa 


■ 


Addhioks. 


J 


ElXXOTALB. 




BAPTIBia. 


















A 












J 




Rab. 
School. 




Obhi. 


Halcf. 


Vem. 


Total. 


AbMnt. ProC 


Let. 


Total. 


DUh. 


Dia. 


ISxo. 


Tot. 


Ad. Inf. i 


lUfaM, 


288 


4.685 


9,608 


16,648 


2,466 462 


248 


686 


266 


294 


28 


683 


806 


266 


18,672 


K.H. 


186 


6,681 


12,009 


19,179 


« • * 


688 


884 


917 


812 


421 


18 


749 


876 


878 


• • * • 


Vt 


198 


8^888 


6,870 


17,214 


2,140 816 


801 


616 


206 


826 


16 


747 


• • • 


147 


• • • • 


Hum. 


477 21,067 


46,648 


68,094 


10,889 1,848 


1,710 


8,668 


1,181 1,849 166 8,186 


796 1,870 


70,602 


B.L 


22 


. • . . 


« • • • 


8,241 


• • • 


72 


62 


124 


88 


66 


2 


90 


87 


84 


4,210 


Coon. 


88811,429 


28,086 


48,967 


8,116 989 


746 


1,684 


648 


891 


76 1,614 


872 


760 


• • • • 


H.T. 


176 


4.706 


8,116 


14,682 


848 767 


688 


1,476 


162 


624 


61 


K38 


268 


887 


10,487 


H.J. 


8 


221 


418 


689 


15 24 


80 


64 


6 


18 


• ■ 


28 


9 


10 


800 


PMui* 


86 


• . . . 




1,671 


. • • 


2 


11 


13 


• • 


15 


1 


16 


• • • 


9 


826 


OUo. 


106 


1,897 




8,774 


• • • 


281 


267 


766 


60 


248 


15 


818 


87 


88 


6,784 


iDd. 


88 


. . . • 




1478 


. • • t 


• • • 


• • • 


• • • 


• • 


• • 


• • 


• • 


• • 


• « 


• • • • 


IlL 


157 


• • • • 




9,810 


. . . • 


649 


764 


1,808 


92 


612 


26 


680 


-«6- 


8,721 


Mich. 


110 


. • • . 




6,674 


. • • < 


285 


808 


698 


61 


191 


86 


868 


• • 


• • 


• • • • 


WlK. 


181 


• «• « 




6,915 


... 1 


482 


688 


IfilBQ 


69 


869 


84 


468 


166 


218 


6,242 


Jova. 


104 


•••• 




8,642 


• • • 


198 


893 


606 


89 


193 


18 


846 


48 


95 


2,748 


Wmo, 


1 


• • t • 




100 


• • • 1 


11 


6 


16 


1 


2 




4 






100 


Mnn. 


81 


• • t • 




644 


• • • 










• • 










• • • a 


H«far. 


5 


. . • • 




92 


• • • 










• • 










• • • • 


Ktirf** 


8 


• • . . 




86 


. • • 










• • 










• • • • 


Ongon. 


18 


. • . . 




260 


... 










• • 










• « • • 


GUil 


12 


.... 




468 


• • ■ 1 










• • 










686 


Total, 2,815 


• • • • 




220,882 


• • • i 




.. ] 


18,606 




■ • 


• • 


9651 






• • • • 



88 



American CongregcHanai Statit^for 1858. 

THE GHUBGHES AND MINISTBBS IN 1858: 



[JA5. 









CHuaouB. 

A 
















maatEMB. 






With pssior. 


Wilh St. sap. 


Taeanl. 


TOTAJL. 


Psstois. St. sap. 


Othcxs. 


Total. 


Maine, 


88 




98 


55 


242 


89 


76 


36 


201 


New Hampihire, 


86 




66 


82 


184 


86 


64 


31 


181 


Yermonty 


66 




83 


41 


190 


67 


78 


50 


195 


MasMchosetts, 


349 




63 


70 


482 


358 


63 


165 


586 


Rhode Island, 


17 




3 


2 


22 


17 


3 


• • • 


20 


Connecticnt, 


177 




37 


68 


282 


180 


37 


115 


331 


New York, 


45 




107 


26 


178 


45 


72 


68 


185 


New Jertey, 


4 




• • • 


• • 


4 


4 


• • 


1 


5 


Pennsylyania, 


• •• 




• • • 


• • 


27 


• • • 


• • 


• • • 


22 


Ohio, 


• • • 




• • • 


• • 


114 


24 


57 


37 


118 


Indiana, 




16 




• • 


30 


• • • 


• • 


• • • 


16 


IllinoU, 




128 




31 


159 




124 


28 


152 


Michigan, 


# 


86 




29 


115 




76 


14 


90 


Wisconsin, 


17 




92 


23 


132 


17 


82 


33 


132 


Iowa, 


13 




59 


48 


120 


13 


59 


33 


105 


Missouri, 


1 




• • • 


• • 


1 


1 


• • 


• • 


1 


Minnesota, 


3 


• 


21 


18 


42 


3 


21 


3 


27 


Nebraska, 


• • • 




• • • 


• • 


8 


• • • 


• • 


• • • 


4 


Kansas, 


• • • 




• • • 


• • 


18 


• • • 


• • 


• • • 


13 


Oregon, 


• • • 




• • • 


• • 


8 


• • • 


• • 


• • • 


9 


California, 


3 




4 


4 


11 


3 


5 


7 


15 


Total, 








447 


2,369 


• • • • 


• • • • 


• • • • 


2,408 



THE MEMBERSHIP OF THE CHURCHES IN 1858, AND THEIR CHANGES THE 

YEAR PRECEDING : 



GauaoH BfaMBias 



Maine. 
N. H. 
Vt. 
Mass. 

B. I. 

Oonn. 

N.Y. 

N.J. 

P«Dn. 

Ohio, 

Ind. 

111. 

Mich. 

Wis. 

Iowa. 



Minn. 
Ncbr. 



Oreson. 
Calif: 



Gbbs. MalM. 
242 4,924 

184 6^71 
190 6,404 

482 21,426 

«2k .... 

282 10,823 

178 6,882 

4 227 

ml .... 

114 2,638 

30 .... 

169 8,167 

116 .... 

182 .... 

120 .... 

X • • • • 

42 474 

o .... 

JL0 .... 

Jlo .... 

11 .... 



Fvm. 

10,481 
11,880 
10,807 
46,668 

.... 
21,969 

9,467 
468 

.... 

4,260 

• • • • 

4,766 



Total Absent. Prof. 
17,689 2,687 1,407 

20,368 8,871 1,800 

19,666 2,476 715 



8,892 .... 195 
42,078 8,118 925 
16,778 1,008 1,694 



624 



aodrions. bshotals. baptisms. 

* » 4 * . . — * — . Sab. 

Let. Total. D'th. DIs. Xzo. Tor. Ad. Inf. School. 

478 1,886 294 660 46 888 688 8U 19,486 

466 1,766 898 624 27 1,064 660 878 20,868 

406 1,120 884 480 16 811 888 267 18,768 

68,466 10,614 2,898 2,027 6,020 1,186 1,918 87 8,in 1,298 1,411 78,210 

101 286 48 72 12 188 106 46 4,126 

766 1,691 608 888 48 1,486 860 718 .... 

707 2,401 197 678 48 828 747 478 ll^Bl 

28 141 162844248 13 460 

10 84 1 8 .. 4 18 2 .... 

878 808 74 871 87 482 126 142 6,116 

1,472 1,214 1,077 2,281 88 626 84 747 851 281 10488 

■ ••• •••• ••• G^mM ••• ••• • ••• ••• ••• •••• 

768 1341 78 881 68 622 401 868 7^18 

427 988 27 217 21266166188 4,118 

... .... ... ... .. ... .•• ... AUv 

267 884 6 86 .. 40 40 88 .... 

••• •••• ••• ••• •• •• ••• «•• •••• 

••• •••• ••• ••• •• ••• ••• ••• •••• 

19 83 

46 128 4 17 8 24 17 20 

. . . 21,582 • 10,602 ... ... ... 



728 

1,440 

7,668 

788 

10,260 

6,188 

7,242 

4,128 

160 

983 

144 

188 

284 

616 



81 



680 



118 

24 

430 



626 



1,078 
600 



71 127 



67 



14 

77 



Total. 2,369 



230,094 



1869.] 



Literary Notieea. 



89 



From iiiese tables fihere appear to be, at 
the present time, in the United States, 2,S6 9 
Congr^ational churches,* of whom 1,922 
have Pastors or stated supplies. These 
2,369 churches haye 230,094 members, of 
whom 21,582 have been added dorpg the 
last jear, against 10,602 removals by 
death, dismission and otherwise. 

So fiir, tilien, as the Ibr^oing statistics 
ihed light upon the progress of Congre- 
gationalism among us for the period 
to which they i^et^ there seems to be a 
gain of 54 new churches, 64 ministers, 
and 9,762 Church members; there hav- 
ing been 951 more removals from the 
churches, and 8,077 more additions to 



them, during 1857-8, than during 1856-7. 
There are also 56 fewer churches reported 
without the means of grace. In all prob- 
ability, the statistics next published — 
which will include the fruits of that great 
Revival with which Grod has so richly 
blessed the American churches — will shew 
much greater, and more gratifying tokens 
of advance. We trust that the science 
of statistics in the mean time may so com- 
mend itself to all proper authorities, that 
our labor — should we be spared then to 
go over the same ground — ^may be lighter, 
and more thoroughly remunerative in its 
results. 



§00h8 0f ^rdtxtni its Congrjegatibnalists. 

^^^It will be our object tinder this head to notice (quarterly such (mainly new) works as 
promise to be of special interest to Congregational ministers and laymen. We cannot afford 
space — ^nor does it comport with the design of this Journal — to notice general literature.— Eds. 



The Sabbath Htxn Book : for the ser- 
vice of »ong in the House of the Lord, — 
Compiled by E, A, Parkj D.D., Austin 
Phelps f D,D,t and Lowell Mcuon, Doctor 
of Music, New York : Mason Bros. Bos- 
ton : J. £. Tilton & Co. 16mo. pp. 957. 

This volume contains 1,290 Hymns, 24 
Doxologies, 58 Selections for Chanting, 
and 128 jMiges of Indexes, — of which one is 
a Logical Classification of the Hymns ; one, 
an Alphabetical Index of the Subjects of 
the Hymns ; one, an Alphabetical Index of 
Subjects of the Sdections for Chanting; 
one, a Biblical Index ; one, an Index of the 
First lines of Hymns ; one, an Index of the 
Hrst lines of Stanzas ; and one, an Index 
of Authors. 

This 16mo edition, which is in very clear 
tjrpe* and superior style, is sold at retail, in 
sheep binding, for one dollar. An edition 
in somewhat finer tyi)e, with the Hymns 
in double columns, will soon be issued, 
and will retail at about sixty-three cents. 
An edition with tunes adapted to the 
Hymns will also soon be published, at the 
retail price of one dollar and a quarter; and 
the tunes will also be printed by them- 
eelves, in a volume which will retail at 
thirty 'five^ or fifty cents, 
12 



This Hymn Book has the advantage of 
having been for many years in preparation, 
in able hands. Its inception dates back to 
the best years of the life of the late Prof. 
B. B. Edwards, who, in company with one 
of the present editors, laid out the plan of 
such a book, and commenced collecting for 
it, in this country and in Europe. After 
Prof. Edwards' lamented death, his distin- 
guished colleague carried on the labor, call- 
ing to his aid the culture and abilities of 
the two eminent men now connected with 
him in the work. 

The principles on which this Manual for 
the service of song has been prepared are 
thus noted by its publishers : 

1. It is designed to be a Manual of De- 
votion, 

2. It is designed to be a Manual of De- 
votion to the Redeemer, 

3. It is designed to be a Biblical gnide 
and aid to Devotion. 

4. It contains a large number of the 
tried hynans of the Church. 

5. It contains some of the ripest fruits 
of modem Hymnology. 

6. Special effort has been made to secure 
for it some of the richest hymns on the 
most difficult subjects. 



90 



latermy Notiea. 



|Jijr. 



7. Sjpedal effort baa beenmade to Beeure 
tariety and appropxiateness of subject and 
■style. 

8. It contains a large number of hyinnB 
impropriate to special occasions. 

0. It is incidentally designed for nae in 
tha£Emiily, and in the choir. 

10. It has aimed at a decidedly lyrical 
character. 

11. Special effort has been made to se- 
lect for it those readings of hymns which 
are best in themseWes, and best adapted to 
actual use in our churches. 

12. It has aimed to adopt the most lucid 
and natural arrangement of its h3rmns, and 
to famish the fullest and most logical in- 
dexes. 

We regret that the necessarily narrow 
limits of a mere Book notice, like this, 
must wholly prevent us from any such ex- 
tended and thorough reriew of the <* Sab- 
bath Hymn Book" as its pecidiarities de- 
mand. We do not know that we can do 
better, under all the circumstances, by way 
of aiding our readers to form some just 
judgment in regard to it, than by taking 
up some one feature of its many-sidedness, 
and endeavoiing, by some minute analysis, 
to show them how it has peifonned its 
work. We select its department of new 
hymns, as being at once one of its most 
distinguishing peculiarities, and one in 
which the public will natoially feel espe- 
cial interest. 

We proceed, therefore, to make room for 
a few specimens of these new Hymns, here 
garnered for public use — ^presenting them 
by classes, according to their subjects. 

1. New Hymns on Christ* A rich hymn, 
certainly, and one which we think will 
wear well in the sanctuary, is this (H. 302) : 

There if none other name Uiad tUne, 
JeboTah Jenu ! Namedirine! 
On which to rettlbr eioB ft»givea— 
For peace with Ood, for hope of hearen. 
&e. fro. 

^e are apt to think too little of a risen 
Saviour. There are some new hymns here 
peculiarly fitted to draw us toward our 
ascended, and triumphant Lord. Take the 
last stanza of Hymn 366 ; only true love to 
Jesus can breathe such a prayer : 

SaTioar, dnee tfaoa art gone before, 
Oh, grant that we maj go 



Where ifai% dark empire lino non, 
And death a vanqniihed foe ! 

So, there is a grandeur worthy of the theme 
in the last stanza of Hymn 357 : 

All hail, trimnphant Lord ! 

The renirrection thou ; 
AU haU, ineamatelArd ! 
Before th j throne we bow : 
OaptiTi^ ifl captire led, 
For Jeens liTeth whowaf dead. 

in like manner. Hymn 434, " Oh speak of 
Jesus,'* makes more precious to us that 
name which 



" foils like nraeic on tiie w, 
When nothing elae ean soothe or eheer.'* 

•Is there anything upon the theme *< Christ 
loved imseen," equal to the following, by 
Dr. Palmer. (H. 689) : 

Jesns, these eyes hare never seen 

That radiant form of thine ! 
The veil of sense hangs dark between 

Thy blessed foce and mine ! 

I see thee not, I hear thee not, 

Yet art thon oft with me ; 
And earth hath ne'er so dear n spot, 

As where I meet with thee. 

Like some bright dream that e(unes unsoni^t. 

When slumbers o'er me roll, 
Thine image ever fills raython^t, 

And charms my ravished soul. 

Yet though I have not seen, and sttU 

Must rest in foith alone ; 
I love Ihee, dearest Lord !— and will. 

Unseen, but not Unknown. 
&e. kc. 

In Hymn 747, by Bonar, we haye a Tiew 
of the believing sinner's relation to the 
Atonement, too seldom presented. The 
hymn is admirable in its graphic power : 

I see the crowd in Pilate's ball, 

I mark their wrathful mien ; 
Their shonts of ** cradfy" appall, 

With blasphemy between. 

And of that shouting multitude 

I feel that I am one ; 
And in that din of voices rude, 

I recognise my own. 

I see the scourges tear his back, 

I see the piercing crown, 
And of that crowd who smote and mock, 

I feel tiiat I am one. 
Around yon cross, the throng I aee. 

Mocking the sufforer's groan ; 
Yet still my voice it seems to be, 

As if I mocked alone. 

T was I that shed the sacred blood ; 

I nailed him to the tree ; 
I crucified the Christ of Qod, 

I joined the mockery ! 

^d when we come to the last stanza we 
are melted to tears : 



186a] 



JMmmry 



dl 



XI»«kMMt MiagrBi^iia! 
And Boi tiM ]a« that wm pMtailf 
To gN» AM pMM irlfhin ! 

In like maimer, Hymn 746 will commend 
itself^ for its touching omplicity, to all who 
know by expenenoe what it is to 'lay' 
their < ainay' * goilti' ' wanta,' ' grie&,' *eaie8»' 
* on Jeaua.' One can almost imagine the 
bdored diadple utteiiBg himaelf in ita last 
lines: 

I tong to bo Uko Jooiu, 

■••k, loTtef , lotriy, mild ; 
, I loag to te Wm JcMia, 

VioFalhorlibolyofalld: 
I tong to bo Uko Jobiu 

Amid tho liMtoiily thronff, 
VoriDflrwkhaointi hio pralM, 

Toioara Ibo ■ngolo' foog. 

It la one dioiee exoellence of this new 
Mannal of song that it ia so rich in thia 
department of h jmna pertaining to Chriat 
and the Atonement, — so fall of the Cross, 
and the loye of which it ia the affecting 
symbol. 

2. Ntw Vernoiu ofSeriptwre Ljfrict. The 
Editors remarii in the introduction, that 
they *' haTe sought for the choicest metrical 
versions of passages from the Bible." Al- 
though we do not find some of Watts' yer- 
sions of the Psalms, yet this is, eninently, 
a Biblical Hymn Book. Its compilers seem 
to haye had constantly in mind the feet that 
** as we depart from the Biblical standard, 
we are in danger of introducing a morbid 
pietism In the place of a healthftil piety." 
Some of the Hymns are literal yersions of 
passages from the Bible. Hymn 37, <* Un- 
to the Lord, unto the Lord," &c., admirably 
presents the old Hebrew style and spirit of 
the 96th Psalm, successfidly preserving 
eren its repetitions. Hymn 195, beginning : 

Up to tho hillo I lifl miso ojroo, 
Thore oU ray hope if laid ; « 

Tbo Lord nbo built tho earth and iklee,~ 
tttfUL Mm wm eomo mine aid. 

is ahnoet a literal rendering of the 121st Ps., 
'* I will lift up mine eyes imto the hills," 
Iec. Hymn 821 bears almost as exact a re- 
lation to someportionsof the 63d of Isaiah. 
So Hymn 868, beginning : 

Not ta the mount that buniad with flame, 
To da ik ne m , tempest, and the eound 

Of tmmpet'B tone that, itartling came, 
Nor Tolee of wofda that rent the ground,— 

&c., seems to be repeating the sublimities 



of the 12th of HebiewB. Hysms 1179, and 
1273 are of the same dasa. 

3. New Dootrinai Hynm». This is a very 
important ftature, for much may be dona 
in the songs of the sanctuary to inte»> 
weave the great doctiinea of our &ith witli 
the pleasant assodationa of the pec^le; 
and something haa aometimes been done in 
the opposite direction, from the same source. 
The hymns generally, of this class, in this 
book, are admirable, and especially those 
upon the doctiinea of Election, and the Per- 
severance of the Saints. They appeal 
to the heart to receive and love the sub- 
lime truth which they express. Our Meth- 
odist brethren would hardly refdse to sing 
such a hymn as the 237th, by Dr. Palmer : 

Lord, my weak thought in vain would elhnh 
To iearoh tha atanr mult profound ; 

In Tain would wing her flight sublime, 
To And ereation'B outmoot bound. 

But weaker jet tliat thought mnit prove 
To OMNh thy gstat eternal plan^~ 

Thy eorereign oouneele, bom of love 
Long agee ere the world began. 

When my dim reaion would demand 
Why that, or thie, thou doet ordain. 

By some vast deep I teem to itand, 
Whoee eeerete I muat aek in vain. 

When doublf difturb my tioabled bmast, 

And all ie dark aa niglit to me, 
Here, as on eolid rook, I rest ; 

That so it seemeth good to thee. 

Be thia my Joy, that evermoie 
Thou mleet aU thingi at thy wiU : 

Thy sovereign wiedom I adore, 
And eahnly, sweetty, trust thee stUI. 

Every humble grateful Christian, what- 
ever his creed, will welcome and love to 
sing, such words as these : (H. 240.) 

Oglftof gifts! O Qraoe of ftith ! 

My God, how oan it be 
That thou, who hast dlseemlng love, 

Shouldst giro that gift to me ! 
How many hearts thou might*st ha?e had 

More innoeent tlian mine ! 
How many souls more worthy fkr 

Of Uiat pure touch of thine ! 

Ah, Grace ! into unllkeliest hearts 

It is thy boast to oome ; 
The glory of thy light to And 

In dariEest spots a home. 

so., Am. 

The same may be said of the Hymn 977, 
on the ** Saints' Perseverance." 

4. New Hymna of Joy, The Bible repre- 
sents divine worship as a joyful exercise. 
We are pleased, therefore, to find in this 
volume, many hymns of this character ; 



92 



Literary Notices. 



[Jak. 



hymns of joy in God, in Christ ; of de- 
light in the Gospel and its ordinances, and 
a great variety appropriate to occasions of 
Tarious Thanksgiving. Among these we 
like Hymn 30; « Oh hallowed is the land 
and blest," &c. ; and Hymn 279, on « the 
miracles of Christ:" 



Oh, when Is ha that tiod the i 

Oh when if ha that spake, 
And lepexs ftom their pains are free, 

And slayee their Sitters break ? 

Tlie lame and palsied freelj rise, 

With Joy tlM dumb do sing ; 
And, on tlM darkened, blinded eyes, 

Glad beams of morning luring ! 

It is suited tc inspire the belieyer with 
new joy in Christ, to sing such words as 
these, (H. 439) : 

I*Te foond the pearl of greatest prioe ; 

Ky heart doth sing Ibr Joy ; 
And sing I mnst, Ibr Chtlst Is mine— 

Quist shaU my song employ ; 

&c„ and these, (H. 753,) on the theme, 
** There is laid up for me a crown ;" 

My heart ibr gladness springs ; 

It cannot more be sad ; 
Hot my yij it smiles and sings, — 

Sees nan^t bat sunshine glad. 

The snn that lights mine eyes. 

Is Ohrist, tlie Lord I loye ; 
I sing for Joy of that which lies 

Stored up for me abore. 

5. New Hymns expressing simplicity of 
Christian feeling. We think the whole 
book is characterized, in an unusual de- 
gree, by hymns of this class, while there 
are many peculiarly excellent in this de- 
partment. Who does not love a hymn of 
such tender and touching simplicity as 
this, by Bonar, (H. 551) : 

I was a wandering sheep, 

I did not loTe the fold, 
I did not lore my Shepherd^s rolee, 

I would not be controlled. 

I was a wayward child, 

I did not lore my home, 
I did not love my Father^s Toice ; 

I loTed afor to roam, 
etc. sc« 

Another exquisite hymn of this descrip- 
tion is the 991 St. 

Purer yet and purer 

I would be in mind, 
Dearer yet and dearer 

Erery duty find ; 

Hoping stIU and trusting 

Qod without a fear. 
Patiently believing 

He will make all clear ; 
fcc. &c. 



This recognition of the eloquence of 
simplicity, in many hymns, gives the book a 
special value for children's use, and there are 
many more appropriate for use in the Sab- 
bath School, and dsewhere, than are direct- 
ly connected with such mention m the Index*. 
See in the Index,. " Simplicity," "Meek- 
ness," *< the mild virtues," &c., &c. It in- 
dicates the many-sidedness of the excel- 
lence of the book also, that it should be 
remarkably well furnished with hymns of 
a bold and stirring type, as see <* Bold 
Virtues" &c., &c., in the Index. 

6. New Penitential Hymns. The broken 
and contrite heart will find its own prayer 
touchingly expressed in the 372d Hymn ; 
<* Plead Thou, Oh, plead my cause !" &c., 
and thousands of penitent spirits will re- 
peat over and over such words as those of 
Bonar, (H. 987) : 

I did thee wrong, my God ; 

I wronged thy truth and love ; 
I fretted at the rod,— 

Against thy power I strove. 
&c. fcc. 

7. New Hymns to the TYimty. H3min 
473, " Great One in Three, great Three in 
One !" &c., will compare favorably with 
the best of those with which we have 
been familiar, while that (the 467th) begin- 
ning: 

Let glory be to Qod on high ; 
Peace be on earth as in the sky ; 
Good will to men ! We bow the knee, 
We praise, we bless, we worship thee ; 
We give thee thanks, tiiy name we sing, 
Almighty Father I Heavenly King: 

is a noble Gloria in Excelsis which, thus 

rendered, will be for us, as for the ancient 

Church, a Hymn for the Ages. 

8. New Hortatory Hymns. This book 
contains an tmusually large number of 
hymns which speak in the first person. 
Mo^ of Bonar's hymns are thus construct- 
ed. Where this is possible, we like it. 
There is more heart in it, and therefore it 
goes straighter to the heart. Hymns of 
self-exhortation are, perhaps, the best hor- 
tatory hymns. What could be more affect- 
ing than to hear each member of the con- 
gregation singing from the heart, such stan- 
zas as these from the 556th Hymn : 

God calling yet ! — shall I not bear ? 
Earth^s pleasures shall I still bold dear ? 
Shall lift's swift passing years aU fly, 
And still my soul in slumbers lie ? 
fcc. 



1859.] 



IMerary Notices. 



93 



9. New ^ymfu on Death and EtemUy, 
What can be finer than this (H. 1169) : 

On* n wt U y icdcmn ihoai^t 

OomM to me o'«r uid o'er, 
M«uc«r my pwdng hoar am I 

Than e'er I was IwfovD. 

Neavar my Tatbar'i hoiue, 

Wbere many manikms be ; 
Nearer the throne where JeeuB reigns— 

Nearer the eiyetal aea i 

Nearer my going home, 

Laytaig my burden down, 
Leaving my ereei of heavy grie^ 

Wearing my itarry erown ; 

Nearer that hidden iCream, 
Winding throng ahadee of night, 

BoUing iti oold, dark wavee between 
Me and the world of light. 

Jeena ! to thee I cling : 

Strengthen my arm of ikith *, 
Stay near me wliile my way-worn feet 

Praaa thioogh the ■treaiH of death. 

Hymns 1173, and 1174, npon the same 

theme aze excellent. But we like perhaps, 

eren better, this, (H. 1177) ; 

No, no, It ia not dying 

To go unto our God ; 

This gloomy earth forsaking, 

Our Joomey homeward taking 

Along the atarry road. 
&o. 

The following (H. 1289,)— upon a very 
difficult theme for the lyzical poet — ^is ten- 
der and solenm : 

FMlker ;— if I may eall thee ao,— 

I tremble with my one desire : 
lift up this heavy load of woe. 

Nor let me in my aina expire ! 

I tremble, leat the wrath divine, 
Wliieh bruises now my sinfkil sool. 

Should bruise and break this soul of mine, 
Long es eternal egcs roll. 

Thy wrath I ter, thy wrath alone, 
This endless exile Lord, from thee ! 

Oh, save ! oh, give me to thy Son, 
Who trembled, wept, and bled for me ! 

10. New Hymnafor the Family, A book 

** for the service of song in the House of 

the Lord" should yet remember, and pro- 

idde for the wants of the fimiily. The'fol- 

lowing Tendon of an old Latin Hymn is 

beantiful for £umly use, (H. 46) : 

Ohfist ! with eaeh returning mom 
Thine image to our heart be borne ; 
And may we erer clearly see 
Our God and Saviour, Lord, in thee ! 
ke. 

In this class also, belongs Hymn 68 : 

Sun of my soul ! thou Saviour dear, 
It is not night if thou be near : 
Oh may no earth-bom cloud arise 
To hide thee frooi thy aerrant^a eyes ! 
he. 



So also the following (H. 1087,) is sure to 
become a favorite in the domestic circle : 

Happy the home, wlien Qod ia there. 

And love fills every breest; 
Where one their wish, and one their prayer, 

And one their lieavenly rest, 
fce. 

This Hymn book will be carried home 
from the House of God, and will be, in 
our judgment, a more indispensable com- 
panion in the closet than any other within 
our knowledge is fitted to be. 

11. New VeraioM of Old Hymns, Many 
of this class are scattered through the yol- 
ume. The best lyrics of the early Church 
— sung by thousands of Christians cen- 
turies ago, here come forth to inspire and 
invigorate the Christianity of the present 
with their lofty strains. Thus, Hymn 96 : 

Thee we adore, eternal Lord ! 
We praise thy name with one accord ; 
Thy saints, who here thy goodness see. 
Through all the world (to worship thee. 

&c., is the old 7^ Detim, 

Hymn 263 : 

All praise to thee, eternal Lord ! 
Clothed in a garb of flesh and blood ; 
Chooeiog a manger for thy throne, 
While worlds on worlds are thine alone. 

&c., is one of Luther's old Chorals; one by 
whose help he made Germany a nation of 
of singers. So Hymn 293 : 

sacred Head, now wounded ! 

With grief and shame weighed down ; 
eaored brow, surrounded 

With thorns, thine only crown ! 

Once on a throne of glory. 

Adorned with light divine. 
Now all despised and gory, 

I Joy to call thee mine. 

is a free version from one of Gerhard, that 
will endear itself to all who can enter with 
personal sympathy into its pathetic signifi- 
cance. Hymns 675, from perhard ; 685, 
from Xavier; and 687, from Bernard, are 
of this class, and a reference to the Lidex 
will show that these versions of the ancient 
hymns of the Church are numerous in the 
volume. 

12. New Hymns expressing love to God and 
Christ, Not a few of these enrich this 
work and will commend it to the affections 
of John-like disciples ; though a colder 
criticism than theirs might sometimes re- 
luct from some of their stanzas. Such is 
Bonar's (H. 418) : 



u 



LiUrmy N<Mm. 



[JiH 



I doaa m J hMTj cje, 

SftTloar, ev»r near ! 
I lift mj ■ool on highf 

Throo^ ttM dariCMie dnat: 
Be thoa my Ught, 1 017, 

SaTioar, erer dear ! 
&e. &e. 

Hymn 653, « Oh, who is like the IkCghty 
One," &c. ; H. 820, "To Calvary, Lord, in 
spirit, now," &c., and H. 686, " Jesus, thou 
Joy of loving hearts !" &c., (firom Bernard, 
by Dr. Palmer) are examples of what we 
mean under this head. 

13. New Oeeasional Hymna, Among these 
are the Wedding Hymn (H. 1141) ; tiiat on 
Summer (H. 1154) ; that excellent one on 
Slavery — ** Lord when thine ancient people 
cried," &c., (H. 1104) ; and that on Peace, 
" Thy footsteps. Lord, with joy we trace," 
&c., (H. 1110.) The arrangement of the vol- 
ume is to intersperse all of this description 
which can be classed under more general 
heads, among others under those general 
heads, rather than to include them all under 
their specific heads. So that a reference to 
the Lidex will disdoaiie a much larger num- 
ber of this description, than a first glance at 
the volume would suggest. 

14. New Hymns of Strength, Some of 
these hymns, or some expressions in them, 
may be objected to, but there are themes 
which cannot be adequately treated in any 
other than the most nervous phrase. A 
hymn, for example on *• Self-sacrifice" will 
naturally take on a severe style of diction. 
Hymn 841, from the Gennan, — ^now wor- 
thy of its theme — ^would fidl, if rendered 
in feebler speech; though it would be 
easy to find fault with its 3d stanza : 

Take away my erring will ; 
All my wayward paadona kill ; 
Tear my heart from out my heart, 
Thoogh it cost me bitter amart. 

Christians often need to sing such stan- 
zas as these ; of Hymn 896 : 

Oft in Borrow, oft in woe, 
Onward, ChiifUan, onward go ! 
Fight the light, maintain the etrilb, 
Strengthened with the bread of lift. 

and this — ^by Duffidd, suggested by the 
last words of Dudley H. Tyng— (H. 902) : 

Stand np !— etand vp for JeeoB ! 

Ye loldieri of the oroei ; 
Lift high hie royal banner, 

It must not euller kM : 



twm Tiet*iy unto Tiefry • 

Hie army ahall he lead, 
nil erery fbe is Tanqoiahed, 

And Ohrift is Lord indeed, 
fce. 

15. New Hymna an the Chtirch, Some of 

the best hymns of the volume are devoted 

to this theme. Beautiful ia Bonar's, (H. 

1019): 

Far down the agee now, 

Mnch of her Joomey done, 
The pilgrim ehoreh poztoea lier way, 

Dntil her erown be won. 

TIm story of the past 

Comes np beftve her tiew; 
How well it seems to stdt her itill— 

Old, and yet erer new ! 

Still grander is the following (H. 1038,) 
by the JSHtu deyener of the great polylin- 
gual Presbyterian : 

Oh, where are kings and empires now 

Of old that w«Bt and eame ? 
But, Lord, thy ehnrch is ptaying ywt, 

A thousand years the same. 

We mailE her goodly battlements, 

And her fonndaflons strong ; 
We hear within the solemn Toioe 

Of her unending song. 

For not like kingdoms of the world 

Thy holy ehnroh, Ood! 
Though earthquake shocks are thrsat*nittg her, 

And tempests are abroad ; 

Unshaken as eternal liiUs, 

ImmoTable she stands, 
A mountain that shall fill the earth, 

A house not made by hands. 

We love these new Hymns, and others 
of which we cannot here make mention. 
We believe that the Church will love them. 

And all our examination persuades us that 
there is so much of the genuine spirit of 
the Bedeemer in this volume, as to make it 
welcome to those who love Hun, for ** the 
service of Song" in Tfia house — though 
each cold critic poring over its pages were 
to cry out ; Macuke, Eheu, macuke ! 

The New Testament, tranahOed firom the 
Original Qreekt with Chrtmohgioai arrange- 
ment of the Sacred Books, and in^proved di- 
visiona of Chapters and Veraea, by Leicester 
Ambroae Sawyer, Boston : John P. Jew- 
ett & Co., 1858. 12mo. pp. 823. Price 
$1.25. 

Few books have been more oveipraised, 
and overcensured than this. To read some 
notices of it, one would think that it well 
nigh amounted to a new revelation. To 
read others, one would almost suppose that 
it was beneath even the contempt of a 



1869.] 



Litentrif Naliee». 



95 



scholar. Neither school of critics is right. 
The work does not deserve that extrayagant 
eulogy which has been bestowed upon it ; 
nor is it by any means beneath the buying, 
and the reading, and the study of those 
who love, and desire to get at the inner- 
most significance of the ** livdy oracles." 

Its author is a Congregational clergyman, 
of good repute in his profession, and has 
long been known as a fiiithful scholar. 
Some four years ago he published a work 
on *' Organic Christianity," which — ^in a 
Tery thorough and able manner — discussed 
the <* CSiurch of God " as an organic entity, 
from a historical and critical point of view, 
arguing strongly, and, as we thought, un- 
answerably, for that pure democracy which 
grew up, under Apostolic hands, at Jerusa- 
lem, and elsewhere. In some respects Mr. 
Sawyer has eminent qualifications as a 
translator of the Word ; others we think he 
lacks. He is inclined to be a little too 
much of a literalist to suit our taste, 
and sometimes forgets that the exact 
English synonyme of the sense which a 
Greek word had 1800 years ago — ^when it 
was set apart from a common to a Biblical 
use — ^is not necessarily now the synonyme of 
the Evangelical sense of that word. Thus 
** change your mind " may literally render 
meUmoMf as it was when Christ laid hold of 
it as the expressive term for the new birth, 
but it does not convey to our minds the 
^^'^•"y^g which Christ then put upon it, so 
fidthfnlly as our common term <* repent." 

Yet while Mr. Sawyer, we think, has 
erred, in many instances, by this excess of 
literalness, (as where he gives us *' modius " 
instead of « bushel," &c., &c.) this qxuility 
of searching honestly for the exact sense, 
elsewhere gives great value to his version. 
So thai, on the whole, we think he deserves 
many thanks for the book, and that it wUl 
stimulate Biblicaal investigation, and aid 
Ironest students. 

Thb New ExGLAin) Thboc&act. A histo- 
ry of the ConffreffotionalUts in New England 
to thoBevioaU of 1740, by H. F, Uhden, wUh 
aprefaeoe bythehte Dr, Neander, translated 
from the Second German Edition, by II, C. 
Cdnant, author of "the English Bible** S^,, 
4ic. Boston: Gould & Lincoln, 1858, 
12mo. pp. 803. Price f 1.00. 

This numograph was prepared by the au- 



thor — a &vorite pupil of Dr. Keander — at 
the suggestion of that eminent Church His- 
torian, as an introduction to some estimate 
of the later religious and ecclcsiastical con- 
dition of the country. It contains nine 
chapters. The first, sketches the rise of the 
Independents in England, and their emigra- 
tion to Holland. The second, follows 
them to these shores, and glances at their 
form of State, and at their earliest educa- 
tional and missionary efforts here. The 
third, is devoted to the expulsion of Roger 
'Williams, and the Antinomians. The 
foturth, describes the excision of the Bap- 
tists and Quakers. The fifth, gives accoimt 
of the suppression of internal opposition 
to the Theocratic government, and the do- 
ings of the Synod of 1648. The sixth, 
looks at the dissolution of the Theocratic 
relation, firom the Ecclesiastical and Polit- 
ical side. The seventh, discusses certain 
reactionary influences proceeding firom the 
Theocracy after its abrogation. The eighth, 
gives account of the subsequent decline of 
Congregationalism, and the forming of the 
germs out of which TJnitarianism was sub- 
sequently developed. The ninth, is de- 
voted to the revivals of 1740. 

The work is done in the true German 
style, and is consequently rather dry. It 
is not always accurate in the statement of 
fiicts, nor apt in its interpretation of prin- 
ciples. Yet it has considerable interest 
and value, and is especially noteworthy as 
showing how our home affairs look 
through a Teutonic medium of thought 
and expression. If it shall stimulate some 
well-read American, who is in thorough 
sympathy with the religious spirit of our 
Pathers, to undertake the work of unfold- 
ing the philosophy of New England His- 
tory during its first two centuries ; it will 
reach its culminating point of usefulness. 

Memoib op Bev. David Tappan Stod- 
dard, Missionary to the Nentoriofts, by 
Bev, Joseph P, Thompson^ D,D,, Pastor of 
the Broadway. Tabernacle Churchy New 
York, New York : Sheldon, Blakeman & 
Co., 1868. 12mo. pp. 422, price f I.OO. 

This is every way one of the richest and 
most instructive biographies of the year. 
We had prepared a lengthened notice of it 
which is crowded out. 



96 



Ccmgregaivmal Necrohgyyfor 1858, 



[Jah. 



For 1868. 

(O'We insert tinder tbis head snch brief biographies of those honored among us who hare 
gone to their rest during the past year, as we have been able to procure in the short time at 
our disposal. We are under obligation to seTeral Ariends for them, to whom we would hereby 
tender grateful acknowledgments. Hereafter we shall aim to make this department complete 
as well as accurate.— Eds. 



Rev. JOSEPH BLOOMER left a clerk- 
ship in Dubuque, Iowa, to enter \ipon a 
course of study for the ministry, which he 
pursued at Iowa College one year ; three at 
Amherst, where he was graduated in 1856 ; 
and one at Andover, in the present senior 
class. Taking dismission from the Semi- 
nary there in the autumn of 1857, he re- 
turned to Iowa, where he was licensed to 
preach. He immediately entered an im- 
portant field of labor at McGregor, Clay-^ 
ton Co., in that State, where he continued, 
in faithful and successful toil, till his death 
on the 24th of February, 1858. His be- 
reayed fiock have borne strong testimony 
to the excellency of his spirit and the en- 
ergy of his ministry. 



TIMOTHY ALDEN TAYLOR, the sec- 
ond son of Jeremiah and Martha Alden Tay- 
lor, was bom in Hawley, Ms., Sept 7th, 1809. 
His earlier years were spent under the care of 
his parents, in the cultivation of a small 
farm in the westerly, and newly inhabited 
part of the town. When he was but 1 1 years 
of age, his father expired in a fit, leaving a 
widow with 8 children, 4 sons and 4 daugh- 
ters, the eldest of whom i^ in her 18th 
year. This widowed mother, with a few 
acres of land for her only means of support, 
with a sacrifice and self-denial rarely 
equalled, announced to her first bom, upon 
whom was her chief earthly dependence, on 
the evening after the funeral of his father, 
that he might consider himself henceforth 
free to seek an education -for the ministry, 
upon which his mind had long been in- 
tently fixed, and to which she had conse- 
crated him from his birth. The sacrifice 
was deemed, by many, to be altogether be- 
yond what duty required of her in circimi- 
stances so limited. But Mrs. Taylor was 



blessed with strong fidth in the promises of 
God to the widow and the fittheileB8<> And, 
although it cost her severe toil and many 
struggles long protracted,' jet she never re- 
gretted the offering. She was permitted to 
live to see not only this, her first bom, 
settled in the ministry,^ but her three other 
sons, encouraged by his example and pa- 
tronage, liberally educated, and successfully 
employed in the same sacred calling. The 
death of this mother in Israd, at the age 
of four score, preceded that of Timothy, but 
a few months. 

It was the privilege of the subject of this 
biographical sketch, for which he oft^n ex- 
pressed his gratitude in riper years, to be 
consecrated to God in the ordinance of in- 
fant baptism, and trained to ascend a moun- 
tain on foot on each Sabbath, the distance 
of four or five miles, to the worship of the 
sanctuary. 

During the year 1827, being in his I8th 
year, young Taylor began his classical edu- 
cation in Sanderson Academy, at Ashfield. 
In the autumn of 1830, while at school in 
Bennington, Vt., he became hopefully pious, 
and soon after united with the Congrega- 
tional Church in his native town. This 
important event gave additional interest to 
bis friends to encourage and aid him in his 
literary pursuits, to which he had given 
earnest attention for several years. The 
grace of God, shed abroad in his heart, 
created new and nobler objects to be reached 
in the attainment of a liberal education. 
But in his general character and deport- 
ment before his change of fSeeling, there was 
little that could be improved for the better. 
Before, aa well as lubsequent to his espou- 
sal to Christ, there seemed to be but one 

1 Rey. OliTer A. Taylor, late Pastor of tb« Confre- 
gatlonal Obaioh 111 Maaehesttr, Bis. 



I860.] 



OongngaUomi Neerdbtgy, fur 1868. 



97 




laidiiig pupOM before Idm, and thit' was 
to beeome a tiunon^ achoUr in whaterer 
fltad&ea ad|^ anbaerre bis naeftilneas in 
•Iter life. To tfaia end be impiored dili- 
gently efcrjr moment of timei . and hua- 
beaded wdl ererj dollar that came into bis 
pnearaeion. Fkoiridence feTored bim with 
health and aoeoeaa. Aa a daaaical acbolar 
ke naked ameng the ibit in bis daea. Aa 
n oonadentkwa, exemplary Chriatian, there 
were none before Unu Having graduated, 
•with diatingnlahed honor, at Amherst Col- 
l^ge^ in 18M, he immediatelj entered upon 
the atndy of Ma eboaen prolieaeion, at the 
Theological Seminarj at Andorer. HaT- 
ing eomplelad bia oo^rse in that foTored 
iaatUatifln in 18S8, be waa ao<m after 
called nnaniaoiuljr to aettle in the minia- 
ttf at SUteraville^ B. L After mature de- 
libefatiea, he accepted the call, and waa 
oidained Ian. Sa, 1939. Hitherto thia tU- 
laga had been miasUmarj ground. But 
from Hm time of Ifr. Tajlor^a aettlement, 
OBwwd torthe tennination of his labors by 
dea^ Hm Sodetj became self-supporting ; 
and not osdy so^ but they contributed lib- 
ccally to the Taiioua objeeta of Christian 
lieiie¥olenoe abroad. 

Ifr. Taylor was a laborious, fiiithful and 
aoceesilbl Faator. In all places, and under 
aU eireumataneea, he exhibited great sim- 
plieity of dmraeter. He was honest to bis 
piineiplet, unflinching in bis integrity, and 
consdeuHously true to the fiiitb once de- 
lifoed to the saints. He magnified the 
ofllee of the ministry, esteeming it second 
to aone other on earth. In whatever be 
Judged to be vitally important to the cause, 
he waa earnest, sometimes vehement, entbu- 
aiaelic» but never radical or overbearing. 
Holding firmly the fidtb of the Puritan 
fimKr% he preached the doctrines of the old 
aehocd of New Eng^d Divines, claiming 
the li^ to speak out plainly and kindly 
Ida piaiafenoea for the modes and forms of 
Hm PSlgrim ehuvohes. 

In a meet happy manner Mr. Taylor 
eonbinedlUlMor and the scholar. In- 
atanft in ieaaan and out of season, he visit- 
ed Ms people, and pnyad wi A them in 
timea of anxiety and diatiesa; exhorting 
them from houae to booae, night and day, 
witbtooa. Aadyetybjeadyii^uganda 

18 



carefbl economy of time, he became a dili- 
gent and successful student. He read the 
Scriptures of the Old and New Testament 
daily, in their original tongues. He wrote 
much for the periodical press. He pre- 
pared and published a Memoir of Ms elder 
brother, and carried it through a second 
edition, improved and enlarged. He pub- 
lished extended treatises on varioua doctri- 
nal and practical subjects, for the consola- 
tion of the afflicted, the guidance of the 
inquirer into "Zion's Pathway," and the 
instruction of all in the way of lifb. Atthe 
time of bis death, he was preparing a Me- 
moir of his honored mother for the press, 
wMoh it is earnestly hoped may be com- 
pleted by other hands, and speedily be given 
to the public. 

Mr. Tayl^ was blessed with frequent 
revivals during Ms ministry, wMoh brougM 
increasing numbers into the Church. He 
emphatically watched finr souls. He prayed 
and wept and toiled for the conversion of 
sinners. His last labors were performed 
for a neighboring minister, who was enjoy- 
ing a season of refreshing. His last sick- 
ness was but for a fiew days, terminating 
March 2, 1868. He fell on the field of ac- 
tion, with his harness on, being in the 50th 
year of Ms age. His end was peace. De- 
vout men carried him to Ms grave, and 
wept over Ms early departure. The fii- 
neral sermon was preached by Bev. Dr, 
Shepard, of Bristol, from the same pulpit 
from wMch, more than 19 years befqre, be 
had preached at his ordination service. A 
strongly attached people crowded the sanc- 
uary to take their )ast view of the remains of 
the man of God who had labored for their 
spiritual welfiftre for nearly twenty years. 
Ab an enduring testimony of their love and 
esteem for Mm, they have, by their own 
f^ will offerings, set up a beautiful mon- 
ument of Italian marble over Ms grave, 
with a becoming memorial of Ms many per- 
sonal and ministerial virtues. 



Bev. NATHANIEL CHAPMAN died 
in Pittston, Me., April 1, of lung fever, ast. 
69. Mr. Chapman was bom in Exeter, 
N. H., in 1789 ; removed to Mt. Vernon, 
Me., in 1800 ; graduated at Bangor Semi- 
nary, in 1820 ; was ordained Pastor of the 



98 



Canffregaiionai Necrology^ for 1868. 



[Jah. 



Church in Bristol, Me., in Sept. 1824^ 
where he remained until 1833 ; for two 
years supplied the Church in Boothbay ; in 
May, 1835, was settled in Camden, con- 
tinuing to 1849 ; was afterwards at War- 
ren ; from Sept. 1852, to March 1856, la- 
bored in Unity, Thomdike, and Freedom ; 
and the last two years of his life in Pitts- 
ton. * * A man of sound judgment and dis- 
cretion ; eminently humble, deyout, meek* 
kind and sympathetic." *' His preaching 

was fiimple, earnest, Scriptuxal, 

practical." 



Key. LUTHER R. WHITE was a native 
of Northbridge, and a graduate of Amherst 
College, in the class of 1848. His Theolog- 
ical course was pursued at Andover. Im- 
mediately after leaving that Seminary, in 
1851, he went to Iowa imder appointment 
from the American Home Missionary So- 
ciety, and labored for a season at Le Claire, 
Scott Co. From thence he removed to 
Port Byron, HI., and opened a school, 
" But," says a class-mate, *< those startling 
words, %Doe is me if I preach not the goepel^ 
rang in his ears," till he returned to the 
ministry, and settled over the Congrega- 
tional Church at Brighton, Iowa, where he 
terminated a short, but laborious and suc- 
cessful pastorate, with his life. May 30th, 
1858. His sickness was brief and not 
thought to be dangerpus, till a few hours 
before his death. 



Mrs. ANN S. KITCHEL, wife of Rev. 
H. D. Eitchel, D.D, youngest child and 
only daughter of David Sheldon, of Rupert, 
Vt., died very suddenly at Detroit, liiGch., 
June 1, 1858, in the 43d year of her age. 

Her earliest remembered childhood was 
singularly marked with religious tender- 
ness, and a conscientious dutifulness 
towards parents and teachers, that seemed 
from the first, to indicate a nature imder 
gracious correction. This ripened through 
a more conscious religious experience in 
her early youth, into a piety that, through 
all the scenes of her subsequent life, prov- 
ed itself abiding and fruitful, always hum- 
ble and trustful ; hopeful, cheerful, and 
abounding in the work of the Lord. 

The developement of her Christian char- 
acter in the relations of maturer life, as 



wife and mother, and as a Pastor's coun- 
selLor and efficient helper, was exceedingly 
rich and beautifiil, and has made her mem- 
ory most precious in the circles where she 
was known. She filled the large sphere of 
her household with a follneas of holy in- 
iiuenoes^ and motherly guidance and provi* 
dence, that left no lack. Her heart was 
rich in an overflowing tcndenneflB of love^ 
that hungered for objects, and lavished it- 
self on child, friend, bird, flower ; living in 
all she loved. She found her happiest and 
most useful sphere in the large circle of a 
Christian parish. Her heart craved this 
field of service, and when another sphere 
opened, she turned from it as vacant 
of these loving relations; "she could not 
live without a parish to love, and live in." 
With no assertion of leadersh^) in feeling 
or manner, she sweetly led a large drde of 
Christian females, inspiring their aims and 
directing their activities ; and many found* 
in her stead&st fidelity and gracious 
promptings, the attraction that drew them 
liearer to their Saviotir. 

She was ever watching the work of the 
Spirit; and eminentiy the secret of the 
Lord was with her, as one to whom it vras 
given to discern oSax off what good God 
was purposing for His people. In every 
season of religious interest, her soul was 
stirred with the first breath of the Spirit. 
At such times, her prayers and activities 
were unceasing. The Revival of last virin- 
ter and spring came to her as an anticipat- 
ed joy, mingled with deep solicitudes — ^the 
fulfillment of many a hope and prayer, yet 
with a weary and sorrowing heart for the 
remnant that was left. In ways of dis- 
creet and delicate ingenuity, observing 
every propriety, she left not one, it is be- 
lieved, in the congregation worshiping 
vrith her, without some word or note of 
loving entreaty and earnest warning, with- 
in a few months before her death; and 
many were given to her in Christ ; and to 
many, being dead, she still speaks. 

Unconsciously she was ripening in these 
scenes for the coming change. She had, 
indeed, no such apprehension ; but there 
was a pressure of imresting endeavor upon 
her, that awakened in many hearts, even 
then« the sense of a work haa fitmiTig to 



1859.] 



CoHgregtiimtU Necrology, for 1858. 



99 



compledoa. Tet her life xan smoothly to 
the blink. No note of warning was given, 
no% eren an hour of consdoiia fldckness. 
Her last evening was spent cheeifully with 
Christian friencUin her own parlor. She 
xetiied aad rested qnietly, till 4 o'clock in 
the moming, when the summons came. 
She was startled from sleep by an intense 
pain in the head— hovered fbr a few mo- 
ments between sensibility and stupor, her 
lew words indicating no thought of danger 
— ^then sunk into a deep insensibility, and 
lay unconscious for ten hours ; and then, 
with no word or look, passed away. 

It was done well, since it must be. The 
bittexness of death was spared her, for she 
had no partings to endure. For the rest, 
no words are needed, or could have added 
to the assurance that all was well with her* 

Many an act and expression, that passed 
fbr little at the time, comes to hate a sig- 
nUlcance almost prophetic, when the light 
(rf such a departure ifdls back on it. As 
her last act before retiring, she sat down 
and played and sung the linos, which had 
become very fkmiliar on her lips t 

^ NMrer, mj Qod to Thee, 

lleerar to Thee ! 
• • • • • 
Or if on joyfVil wing^ 

OleaTlng the ikj, 
Sua, moon, and etan fingoi, 

Upward I fly ; 
StiU eU mjr loos ihaU be 
Nearer, my Ood, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee!" 



Lyman White, of Epping, N. H., at which 
place she remained till 1866, when she re- 
moved, with her husband, to Easton, Ms. 

Last May, God took from her a first 
bom, promising daughter. But he gave 
her another to supply her place. She was 
not, however, to enjoy this favor long. 
Shortly after the birth of her second chUd, 
in an enfeebled state of health, she sought 
the kind assiduities of her fether's house, 
and the invigorating air of her native hills. 
But, contrary to hope, disease continued to 
make inroads upon her constitution, orig- 
inally not strong. Says the Pastor of the 
Church in Acworth, <* Li my brief inter- 
course with her, I was most happy to wit- 
ness the manifestation of a placid, trusting 
spirit; a cheerful acquiescence in God's 
will ; and a firm reliance on the merits of 
Christ for salvation. She had a desire to 
live, that she might aid her beloved hus- 
band in his arduous work. Yet as the time 
of her departure drew near, she unloosed 
her hold upon the objects of this world, and 
waited patiently for the expected event. 
At length, on the morning of the Sabbath, 
she gently passed away from the scenes of 
earth, to experience the sweet rest and un- 
mingled joys of the heavenly world." 



Mrs. PA MELT A G. WARNEB, wife of 
Rev. Ltxan White, of Easton, Ms., died 
at the residence of her father, in Acworth, 
N. H., Aug. 22, 1868, aged 34 years. 

Mrs. White was bom at Acworth, June 
3, 1824, and was the eldest daught^ of 
Maj. Nathaniel and Mrs. Lucy Warner. 
From early childhood she possessed a mild 
and pleasing disposition, which won the 
love and esteem of all who knew her. She 
was remarkably conscientious, and was 
early the subject of serious impressions, 
which continued to return, from time to 
time, until in the autumn of 1845, under 
the feithful labors of B«v. Mr. Fuller, then 
preaching at the place of her residence, she 
gave her heart to God. She united with 
the Congregational Church, Dec. 31, 1846. 

June 6, 1860, she was married to Rev. 



Rev. JOSHUA R. BROWN, died Sept. 
7th,at Longmeedow, Ms., set. 46. He was 
bom in Stonington, Ct., June 14th, 1812 ; 
was converted in the great revival of 1831 ; 
pursued his collegiate studies at Yale, 
though it does not appear that he complet- 
ed the course; studied theologically at 
New Haven and at Andover, at the latter 
of which places he graduated in 1841 . ]May 
21st, 1846, he was ordained over the 2d 
Congregational Church in Lebanon, Ct., 
where he remained eight years ** preaching 
the Gospel with great acceptance, and en- 
joying the esteem* and confidence of all ; 
and where at his departure, he left not an 
enemy, or disaficcted person, behind." 
Dec. 13, 1864, he was installed over the 
Congregational Church in East Longmead- 
ow, Ms., where he remained until his 
death. After a short illness, he died, re- 
joicing in hope. A funeral sermon, preach- 
ed by Rev. Mr. Russell, Oct. 13, 1858, is 
published. 



6(Wl*w8 



100 CkureheB Farmed. — Pastors 



[Jak. 



Congresational fl^urdb^ fttttxUtt, 

DUBINO 1868. 

QC^ TUth regvd to tbii, Md »U ttit taMct wMeh i>Uow, m dtflra to mj thai ir« havt 
fbet, MB tin Uinlliid Hbm mmI iimmm of Infbrmatloii at our oomiaMid. havt enabkd «■ to do. Thagr will Im 
eoDdniMd qiururiy, and w ratpeetftiUjr aik aid of all our brethrtn who can flunlah U.— Sm. 



Jan. 97. 

Vtb. 19. 

Haj 81. 

JviM 8. 

« J7. 

Bapfc. 1. 
« 1 



At QUINDASO, Kaniaa. 
'* HAYANA. Mawa Oo. OL 



M 



WB8TP0RT. Bff. 
** SOUTH AMHIRST, lis. 
•« ONAWA OITY, Iowa. 
** LATVILLB, L. I. rXlaBMnta. 

*« WQITIWATXB FALLS, Winona Go. 



Bcpt. 4. 

" 28. 
Oei. 30. 
Not. 28. 
Dm. 2. 

" 10. 

»* 10. 



At 8ABAT0OA, Howard Oo. Iowa. 
*• MARBLlOftAD. MM. Tha Id Gong. Gh. 

».I«W». 



t< 



NBW UBKRTI^, Seott Go. 
" CHAPIN. Iowa. 
*' SOUTH MALDBf,!!!. 
*< ORANQB, 111. 
" VIOLA, 111. 



Congresational Pastors 1ii»xtti»siit!, 

DUBIMO 1868. 



JAN. 6. Bar. JAMBS A. SBflTH, firam tha Gong. Gh. 
In Glaftonboiy, Gt. 

7. Bar. GHABLB8 W. WOOD, fton tha Gong. Gh. 
In Aibby, Ma. 

19. Bar. NOADIAb S. DIGKINSON, firom tha Gong. 
Gh. in Ghatham, Ma. 

26. Bar. BATMOND H. SBBLBT, frcna tha North 
Cong. Gh. In Sprlogflald, Ma. 

26. Bar. QB O. BU8HN BLL, Jhwn tha Sakm St. Gong. 
Gh. In Woroutar, Ma. 

TIB. If. Bar. MOSBS H. WILDBB, ftom tha Gong. 
Gh. in Harwich, Ma. 

MASCH 8. Bar. L. GONKLIN, frcnn tha Gong. Gh. 
in Fratport, Ma. 

APBIL 8. Bar. WILLARD M HABDINO, fkom tha 
Gong. Gh. In South W^jrmoath, Ma. 

18. Bar. VBANGIS O. PRATT, ftom tha Gong Gh. 
in South Maldan, Ma. 

20. Bar. DANIBL WIGHT, Ja., from tha Gong. Gh. 
fai Sdtaata, Ma. 

MAT 4. R«T. B. W. EBOEBSON, from tha Gong. Gh. 
in Monaon, Ma. 

18. R«T. GHARLBS BENTLT, from tha Gong. Gh. in 
WMtport, Gt. 

19. Bar. B. M. GHIPMAN, Ikom tha 8d Gong. Gh. in 
GnlUbrd, Gt. 

81. Bar. H. A. KBNDALL, from tha Gong. Gh. in 
Bait Gonoord, N. H. 

JUNB 2. Bar. BBNJ. JUDKINS, Jt., fhn tha Gong. 
Gh. in SomerriUe, Ma. 

2. BeT. FBBDBRIGK A. FISKE, from the Trinita- 
rian Cong. Gh. in Bait Manhilald, Ma. 

8. Bar. JAMBS ANDERSON, fhim tha Gong. Gh. in 
Manehaiter, Tt. 

8. Bar. JAMBS L. MBBBIGK, ftom tha Ocng. Gh. 
in South Ambant, Ma. 

29. Bar. ASAHEL B. QBAT, from tha Gong. Gh. in 
GoTentry, Yt. 

20. Bar. ALBXANDEB J. SESSIONS, from tha Gong. 
Gh. in Malroae, Ma. 

80. BeT. ISAAG BOGBBS, from tha Gong. Gh. in 
Farmington, Ma., aftar a pastorate of 82 ytam. 



JULT 18. Bar. J. P. BIGHABD60M, from tha Goi«. 
Gh. in OtMald, Ma. 

14. Bar. MABK QOULD, firom tha Ocng. Ch. la A»> 
dofar, Ma. 

AUG. 19. Bar. ALBXANDEB G. 0HILD6, from tha 
Gong. Gh. at Amaehury MUli, Ma. 

SEPT. 8. Bar. AARON G. ADAMS, tnm the FranlL- 
Un Si. Cong. Gh. in Maooheiter, N. H. 

14. Rar. WM. E. HOLTOKE, from the Ocng. Ct, in 
Elgin, ni. 

OGT. 6. Bar. FRANKLIN B. DOE, ft«m tha Gong. 
Gh. in Laneaatar, Ma. 

12. Ear. WM. G. JAGKSON, from tha Oong. Oh. in 
Lincoln, Ma. 

14. Bar. GHBISTOPHEB M. GOBDLBT, ftam tha 
let Gong. Gh. in Bandolph, Ma. 

19. Bar. EDWARD W. OILMAN, from tha lal Xtmi- 
gellcal Gong. Gh. la Gambrklgaport, Ma. 

28. Rot. SWIFT DTINGTON, fkom the Gong. Oh. la 
West Brookfield, Ms. 

NOY. 1. Rar. EUAS NASON, fkom tha Gong. Ch. la 
Natick, Ma. 

8. Rer. ROBERT G. LEARNED, tnm tha Oong. Ch. 
in Oantarlmry, Gt. 

8. Rer. CHARLES SMITH, from tha Shawmnt 
Cong. Ch. In Boston. 

10. Bar. ISAAG P. LANGWOBTHT, from tha Chml- 
nnt St. Cong. Gh. in Ghdaea, Ms. 

28. Bar. MATSON M. SMITH, Ikom tha Harrard 
Gong. Gh. In BrooUine, Ma. 

29. Bar. J. JAT DANA, Ikom tha Gong. Gh. In South 
Adama, Ma. 

80. Bar, WM. PAGE, fkom tha Gong. Gh. in Salem, 
N.H. 

80. Bar. B. B. HODGMAN, from tha Gong. Ch. in 
lornnlleld Center, Ms. 

DBG. 1. BeT. J. B. ADAMS, Ikom tha 111 Gong. Ch. in 
Gorham, Me. 

14. Bar. LYMAN WHITING, fkom tha North Cong. 
Ch. in Portsmouth, N. H. 

81. Bar. DAYID BRIGHAM, fkom tha Trinitarian 
Church in Bridgewater, Ms. 



Consrcflatumal pastors ZzMit, 



DUBINO 1868. 



JAN. 4. Bar. OTIS HOLMES, late of Northwood, 
N. H., over the Oong. Gh. io EUot, Me. Sennon 
by Bar. L. Whiting, of Portsmouth, N. H. 

6. Bar. HOBAGE WINSLOW, orar tha Fbat Gong. 
Gh. In Great BarrlDgtoo, Ma. 

6. Messrs. L. N. WOODBUFF and WM. D. FLAGG, 
aa ETangelists, to labor at GloTer, and Barton, Yt. 

18. BeT. BOBEBT CRAWFORD, over thtf Oithodoz 
Gong. Gh. in Derrfleld. Ma. Sermon by Bar. E. 
Davte, D J)., of Wastflald, Ma. 

14. Bar. JOAIPH W. BACKUS, kit of GhapUa, 01., 



OTor the Gong. Ch. In Leomlnater, Ms. 
by Bar. H. P. Arms, of Norwleh, Gt. 

20. Mr. B. J. HA WES, orar the 1st Gona. Gh. In Plym- 
outh, Gt. Sermon by BeT. J. Hawaa, DJ>., of 
Hartlbrd. 

20. BeT. THOMAS T. WATERMAN, formerly of Pror- 
idence. R. I., orer the Cong. Ch. in Danlelson- 
Tille,Ct. Sermon by Bar. A. Dunning, of Thomp- 
son, Gt. 

20. Mr. CHARLES H. BALL, otw At Ooag. Oh. la 
Wilton, 01. 



1859.] 



Paston Settled. 



101 



JAN. n. Mr. ISAAC 8. PBRT.a 
B«llo«tfiy]s,TI. BtnaoBby 
W«( BotlaBd, Tt. 

a. B«r. OHABLB MOBORIDOl. liiteof 
lh« Omff. Ck.iB 

1^ B«T. M. S. 




CoWik 




98. B«T. MWRnJi BICHAKDSOir, kto «r Tmr^ 
▼ffle, 01., OTW llM Balm 81. Cong. Ob. m 
mWWMVS| Ml* 

XT. Itov. S. D. 8T0U8. •?« Ite Cong. Oh. la 

by B«T. 8. T. 



MAR. M. Bar. DATID M. SLWOOD, onr tbt Godc . 
Ob. to North Wooditoek, 01. SwmoD br Ber. i. 
NMon,ofNAtlek,M«. 

8L B«T. RIOHARD QLRASON OREBNR, bi*« of 
Adrian. Mieb., orcr Uw BvangU Ooog. Cb. in 
Xmi Obabridfi, Ms. Smaoa by Rer. A. Lb 

APRIL 6. R«T. THOMAS 0. RICE, ortr tbo Oong. Oh. 
in Brighton, Ms. Sanaon by Rer. N. Adami, 
D.D., of Borton. 

7. Mr. CHABLn B. BEBD, Of«r tho Cong. Cb. in 
Maldtn, Mi. Sonaon by Rer. Prof. Pbtlpo, of 



H. BRIOKBTT and J. W. BAT,aa Bfaa- 




N. H. Bonnon by Bar. 
OolL 

fXB.l Bar.O T.LAMPHBAB,«iwtbaCoiMLCh. 
In Bnlw, N. H. Simon by Rer. J. P. UkT»> 
land, D.D., of Loivall, Mi. 

7. Bir.CHARL»B.LOBD,ovar ttitCoag.Oh.ia 
Mt y«w>n, N. H. 

B Mr. ALPHBUS 8. NICKBR80N, aa an Branga- 
Uil, aft North Wobnm, Ml. Sonaon by Bar. A. 
l-8ftMw,ofBQiftin. 

B. Bar. WABBBN 0. TISHBB, Off« iha Cong. Oh. 
inOmonOMitar,Ot. 

S. Bar. WH. Dl LOBS LOTS, kto of Rorlfa^ Ot, 
«fw Ifai Spring 81. Cong. Oh. fai Mttwaakoa. 

8. Bar. CHABLS8 W. WOOD, lata of Ariiby, Mi., 
' thtOong. Oh. In OanpoUo, No. Bridgtwattr, 

by Bar. Plot Pbolpi,of Andorar. 



4. Bar.JOON BOWBR8,hiteof Wilbrahaa^orw 
Iha 8d Cong. Ch. In St Johniboty, Tt. * 

4. Bar. HBNBT 0. ABBBNBIHT, Ofar tba Cong. 
Oh. atOMida,IU. 

161 Mr. D. B JONBS, ai an BrangtUit, to bibor al 
CiawtadariUa, and Colombai Cl^, Iowa. 

90. Mr. B. 0. fISKB, aa an BvangeUrt, aft Haraaa, 
Co., HL 

BDWABD H. OBBELET, orar the Ptarl 
St. Oh. in Nariina, N. H. Sormon by Rar. Prot 
PIm^m, of AndoTor. 

9A. Bar. SOLOMON LATALBTTB PBBBIN. kto of 
Ooihfln, Ci., Ofar tha lift Con» Oh. in Naw 
Britain, Ct. 

96b Mr. OLABBNBON WAITB, orar ttia Cong. Ch. in 
Ratlaad, Mi. SmBon by Bar. Qaocga Boihnoll, 
bitoofWoreeiter,Mi. 

XABCH a. Bar. SAMUEL L. BOCKWOOD, Into of 
Haaion,Mi.f orar tha Pilgrim Cong. Ch in Soath 
Waymoath, Mi. Simon by Bar. B. S. Stom, 
BJ)., of Braintreo, Mi. 

t. Bar. ZACHART BDDT, kto of Birmfaigbam, Ok, 
orar tha lift Cong. Ch. in MortbampUm, Mi. Sir- 
by Rar. W. A. Btoarm, D.D., of Am. ColL 



t. Bar. BDWABD T.SWIfT.kto of Booth Badlay, 
Ml., oror tha Cong. (%. hi Clinton, N.T. Sermon 
}kj Bar. ProC Yarmilya, of BMft Windmr, Ct. 

8. Rar. CHARLBS JONBS, lato of Ounbridgaport, 
Ml., orar tba Cong, and PrMb. Ch. in Battla 
OfMk, MIeh. Boimon by Hm^, H. D. Kitobali, 
D.D.,ofDatroift. 

ID. Rar. NOADIAH 8. DICKINSON, late of Chaft- 
bam, Ml., ovar tha Ooiup. Ch. in Fosboro', Mi., 
Sarmon by Rar. B N. Kirk,D.D.,of Boiton. 

161 Mr. B H. PRATT, ai an IrangoUit aft BMt Wood- 
itoek, Ct. Sermon by Rar. T. T. Watannan, of 
SnniriffmriUa, Ct. 

17. Bar. HORATIO MBRRIULUto of Portland, Me., 
orar tha Cong. Ch. in Saliibiuy, N. U. Sermon 
by Rar. B. B Parker, of Coneord, N. H. 

17. Rar. EPHRAIM C. CUMMTNOS. orer the Cong. 
Ch. in Bxawer, Me. Sermon by Rer. J. W. 
Chlckering, D.D., of Portland, Me. 

SL Rer. SPBNCBR O. DTER, orer the Cong. Ch. in 
Becket. Mi. Sermon by Rer. J. H. Blibee, of 
Worthwigftnn, Mi. 



Sl Bar. STEPHEN H. HATBS, orar tha Cong Oh. 
In Sooth Weymouth, Mi. 

14. Bar. STLYANUS 0. KENDALL, orar the Cong. 
Ch. in Millbrd, N. H. Semon by Ber. B. 8. 
Kendall, of Coneord, N. H. 

14. Mr. EDWIN DIMOCK, orer the Central Eraa- 

ei Cong. Ch. of Orange, Mi. Sermon by 
Prof YermUye, of But Wlndior, Ct. 

14. Rer. CHARLES CHAMBERLAIN, kto of Aih- 
ftird, Ct., orar tha Cong. Ch. in BMtt>rd, Ct. 
Sermon oy Rer. T. T. Hatarman, of DanluiOB- 
rille,Ct. 

21. Mr. SPENCER 0. DTER, orar the lit Cong. Oh. 
faiBeeket,Mi. 

88. Rer. ELI8HA W. COOK, late of HaydenriUe, Mi., 
orar the Cong. Oh. in Towniend, Mi. Sermon 
by Rar. M. lUebardion, of Woreeeter, Mi. 

88. Mr. WILLIAM WINDSOR, orer the Cong. Oh. 
in MiteheU, Iowa. 

29. Mr. LT8ANDER DICKERMAN, orar tha Obng. 
Ch. in Oloneeicer, Mi. Sermon by Rer. Profl 
Phalpi, of Andorer. 

MAT 18. .Rer. CHARLES NEWMAN, orer the Coog. 
Ch. id Torringlbrd, Ct. Sermon by Ktt, F. A. 
Sprneer, of New Uanfbrd, Ct. 

19. Mr. OEORGE B. ALLEN, orer the Anitin St. 
Cong. Ch. In Cambridgeport, Ml. Sermon by 
Rer. Prof. Pbelpi, of Andorer. 

19. Rer. MAKINUS WILLETT, orer the Cong. Ch. 
in Blaek Rock, (Fairfleld) Ct. Sermon by Vi»^. 
Mr. Rankin, of New York City. 

22. Mr. AUGUSTINE ROOT, orer the Cong. Ch. In 
lAkerille, Mi. Sermon by Vivf. £. W. Root, of 
Oxford, Ohio. 

24. Rer. G. W. NOTES, orer the Sonth Cong. Ch. 
in New Haren, Ct. 

JUNE 2. Rer. ALFRED EMERSON, frrmeriy Profti- 
lor in Wcetem Reeerre Coll., and recently of 
Sonth Berwiek, Me., orer the Calriniitic Cona. 
Ch. in Fitehbnrg. 

9. Rer. A. M. RICHARDSON, late of Lenox. 0., 
orer tha Cong. Ch. in Aoitinbnrg, 0. Sermon 
by Rer. Mr. OTdi, of JefBenon, 0. 

8. Rer. DAVID BANCROFT, Ute of WUllogton, Ct., 
orer the Cong. Cb. in Praeoott, Mi. Sermon by 
Rer. L. Perrin, of New Britain, Ct. 

8. Mr. WM. C. BARTLETT, ai an Erangaliit, in 
IndianapoUi, Ind. Sermon by Bmi. C. B. Boyn- 
ton, of Cioeinnati, 0. 

7. Mr. L. J. WHITE, orer tba Cong. Ch. In Lyoni, 

XXI* 

8. Rer. JAMES L. MERRICK, orar the new Cona 
Ch. in So. Amherst, Mi. 

16. Mr. CHARLES BROOKS, orer the Cong. Ch 
in Bybeld. (Newburyport) Mi. Sermon by Rer. 
J. L. Jenkioi, of Lowell, Ml. 

16. Rer. WILUAM BATES, late of Northbridge, Mi., 
orer the lit Cong. Ch. in Falmonth, Mi. Ser- 
mon by Rer. N. Adami. D.D. of Boeton. 

16. Rer. WILLIAM CARRUTHERS, orer the Cong. 
Ch. in Sandwich, Mi. Sermon by Vu$f. jTj. 
Carmthen, D.D., of Portland. 

16. Rer. JAMES DBUMMOND, late of Lewiston, 
Me., orer the North Coog. Ch. in Springfield, 
Ml. SennonbyRer.J.Todd,D.D.,ofPitliflald. 



102 



Pastor 8 Settled. 



[JlK. 



JUNEltt. B«T. JAICBS A. CLABK, ]Btoori6w», Oftt 
the GoD(. Gh. ia Cromwvll, CI. 

38. R«T. WILLIAM J. BREED, OT«r the Gong. Ch. 
in Sonthboro' Me. Semoii b/ Bar. E. N. Kirk, 
D.D, of Boeton. 

28. BeT. IDWIN SBABURT, lefee of Weetmlneter, 
Yt., OTer the Cong. Ch. in South Bojaleton, Ma. 
Sermon bv Ber. J. M. StOMf of Walpole, N. H. 

28. BeT. DATID PECK, late of Orange, Ms., OTer the 
2d Cong. Cli. in Danbory. Ct. Sermon by Bev. 
S. W. 8. Datton, D.D., of New Haven, Ct. 

24. BeT. THOMAS N. HASKELL, late of Washing- 
ton, D. C. OTer the Maverick Gong. Ch. in Bast 
Boston, Bis. Sermon by Ber. Prof . Phelps, of 
AndoTer. 

80. BeT. CHARLES PACKARD, late of North Mid- 
dleboro', Bis., over the 2d Cong. Ch. in Bidd^rd, 
Me. Sermon by Rer. Prof. Fiokard, of Bowdoia 
College. 

JULY 14. Bfr T. A. MERRILL, as an Evangelist, at 
Bristol Mills, Me. Sermon by Ber. S. Q. Thoxv- 
(on, of Searsport, Me. 

U. Rev. A. S. GHESEBROUOH, over the Cong. Ch. 
in North Qlastonbory, Ot. 

21. Mr. JAMES M. BELL, over the Orthodox Cong. 
Ch. In Ashby, Ms. Sermon by Rev. A. Emer- 
son, of Fitehbarg, Ms. 

21. Mr. FREDERIC ALYORD, of Bolton, Ct., over 
the Cong. Ch. at Chieopee Falls, Ms. Sermon 
by BeT. G. Hammond, of Qroton, lis. 

21. Mr E. J. ALDEN, over the 2d Cong. Ch. In 
WfCt Springfield, Ms. Sermon by Bev. S. O. 
Bnokingham, of Springfield. 

AUG. 11. Ber. DANA B. BRADFORD, late of Ray- 
mond, N. H., OTer the Cong. Ch. in Sal'xton FalU, 
N. H. Sermon by Rev. L. Whltingt-of Ports- 
month, N. H. 

18. Rot. A. A. BAKER, OTer the Cong. Ch. in Corn- 
wall, Yt. Sermon by Rot. C. Peaae, D.D., of 
Burlington, Yt. 

18. Rot. CYRUS BREWSTER, late of Orange, Ct., 
OTer the Cong. Ch. in HaydenTllle, Ms. Sermon 
by ReT. Z. Eddy, of Northampton. 

18. ReT. I. W. SMITH, OTer the South Cong. Ch. in 
Durham, Ct. Sermon by Rot. D. Smith, D. D., 
of Durham. 

18. ReT. FRANCIS V. TENNEY, late of Byfield, Ms., 
in Manchester, Ms. Sermon by Rot. M. P. Bra- 
man, D.D., of DauTers, Ms. 

28. Mr. KIN08LBY TWINING, over the Cong. Gh. 
in Hlniidale, Ms^ 

SEPT. 1. ReT. GEO. A. ^RYAN, Ute of CromweU, 
Ct., over the Cong. Ch. in West Haven, Ct. Ser- 
mon by ReT. J. L. Dudley, of Bfiddletown, Ct. 

1. Mr. EDWARD H. BUCK, as an STangelist, in 

East Machias, Me. 

2. Mr. GEO. B. SAFFORD, as an Evangelist In 
Northbridge Center, Ms. Sermon by ReT. Prof. 
Phelps, of AndoTer. 

8> Mr. JAMES CRUIKSHANKS, over the Cong. Ch. 
in South Maiden, Ms. Sermon by Rev. Prof. 
Phelps, of Andover. 

8. Mr. A. MoDONALD, OTer the South Cong. Ch. in 
Stanstead, C. E. Sermon by Rev. J. J. Car- 
ruthers, D.D., of Portland, Me. 

22 Mr. EDWARD P. THWING, over the St. Law- 
rence St. Cong. Ch. in Portland. Me. Sermon 
by Rev. J. W. Chickering, D.D., of Portland, Me. 

22. Rev. SAMUEL D. COCHRAN, late of Princeton, 
111., over the Cong. Ch. in Ann Arbor, Mich. 

29. Mr. HIRAM MEAD, over the Cong. Ch. in South 
Hadley, Ms. Sermon by Rev. Prof. Park, of An- 
dover. 

29. Rev. GEORGE BUSHNELL, late of Worcester, 
Bis., over the 1st Cong. Ch. in Waterbury, Ct. 
Sermon by Rev. S. Sweetser, D.D., of Worcester, 
Ms. 



OCT. 1. Mr. JOHN D. EBIBRSON, over the Cong. Oh. 
in Haverhill, N. H. Sermon by Rev. N. Locd, 
D.D., of Hanover, N. H. 

6. Mr. O. E. FREEMAN, over the Orthodox Oong. 
Gh. in Manchester, Bts. Sermon by Rev. JL L. 
Stone, of Boston. 

18. Mr. GEORGE L. WALKER, over Ihe State St. 
Gong. Ch. in Portland, Me. Sermon by Rev. C. 
Walker, D.D., of Plttsfbrd, Yt. 

18. Rev. JAliES B. HADLEY, over the Oong. Gh. 
in Campton, N. H. 

18. Mr. OGDKN HALL, over the Cong. Gh. In East 
Harthmd, Ct. Sermon by Rev. W. H. Gilbert, 
of Granby, Ct. 

18. Bev. GEORGE R. DARLING, late of Lowell, Ms., 
over the Gong. Gh. in Hudson, Ohio. Sermon 
by Bev. H. D. KiteheU, D.D., of Detroit, Mich. 

19. Bev. ERASTUS COLTON, over the Oong. Ch. 
in Southwick. Ms. Sermon by Rev. J. Uawee, 
D.D., of Hartford, Gt. 

19. Rev. W. A. NICHOLS, over the Oong. Ch. in 
Gleaverville, 111. Sermon by Ber. Prof. Smer- 
•on, of Belolt Coll. 

20. Mr. JOHN S. BACHELDEB, over tha Ooog.'Ch. 
in JalErey, N. H. Sennon by Bev. B. Lsa, of 
New Ipswich, N. H. 

20. Mr. CHESTER D. J^FBRDS. over the Co^. Ch. 
in Cheater, Yt. Seroion by Rev. G. 8. Porter of 
So. Boston, Bis. 

20. Mr. HENRY WILLARD, as an Bvaafslist, at 
Pittsfleld, Ohio. Sennon by B«v. J. A. Thome, 
of Ohio City, 0. 

26. B^v. D. E. JONES, over the Gong. Gh. in Colum- 
bus City, Iowa. Sermon by Bev. A. B. Bobbins, 
of Muscatine, Iowa. 

27< Bev. THOMAS N. LORD, over the Cong. Oh. in 
West Auburn, Me. Sermon by Bev. Prof. Pack- 
ard, of Bowdoin College. 

27. Rev. BENJABfIN TAPPAN, Jr.. late of Charles- 
town, Bis., over the Gong. Ch. in Norridgewiok, 
Me. Sermon by Rev. J. O. Fiske, of Bath, Me. 

27. Rev. BENJAMIN L. SWAN, late of Bridgeport, 
Ct., over the Gong. Ch. in Stratford, Gt. 

27. Mr. JOHN MONTEITH. Jr.. over the Cong. Gh. 
in Terryville, Ct. Sermon by Rev. S. L. Cleve- 
land, D.D., of New Haven, Ct. 

as. Rev. CALYIN GRANGER, formerly of Gam- 
bridge, Yt., over the Cong. Ch. in Middtetown, 
Yt. Sermon by Rev. A. Walker, of Rutland, Yt. 

29. Rev. A. C. ADAMS, late of Blancheftter, N. H., 
over the Cong. Ch. in Lewiston Falls, Bfe. Ser- 
mon by Rev. G. E. Adams, D.D., of Brunswick, 
Me. 

NOY. 4. Mr. JONATHAN S. HASKELL, over the 
Cong. Ch. in Mt. Pleasant, 111. 

10. Mr. JOSEPH K. GREENE, as an Evangelist, at 
Lewiston Falls, Bfe. Sermon by Rev. J. B. SewaU, 
of Lynn, Bis. 

10. BIr. ALBERT H. PLUMB, over the Cheetnut St. 
Cong. Ch. in Chelsea, Bis. Sermon by Rev. Prot 
Park, of Andover. 

10. Rev. ELIAS NASON, late of Natlek, Ms., over the 
Bfystic Cong. Ch. in Medford, BU. 8enn<m by 
Rev. H. M. Dexter, of Boston. 

10. Rev. SHILO CANFIELD, late of Sheboygan 
Falls, Wis., over the Goag. Ch. in Sparta, Wis. 
Sermon by Rev. Z. M. Humphrey, of BUlwankee. 

17. Rev. HARRISON G. PARK, over the Cong. Ch. 
in the East Parish of WMtminster, Yt. Senium 
by Rev. 0. E. Park, of West Boxford, Bis. 

17. BIr. ALEXANDER D. STOWELL, over the Cong. 
Ch. in Woodbridge, Ct. Sennon by Rev. L. Ba- 
con, D.D., of New Havwi. 

17. Rev. H. B. ELLIOTT, late of Stamford, Gt., over 
the Cong. Ch. in Columbus, 0. 

26. Rev. N. A. HYDE, over the Plymouth Gong. Ch. 
in Indianapolis, Ind. Sermon by Rev. Prof. 
Haren, of Chicago Theological Senoiasay. 



1859.] 



Mtttistert Married.— lEmders Deceased. 



103 



VOY. 80. BflfT. JOHN P. SKXELB. late of HADoiral], 
Me., OT«r the Cong. Ch. in Wilbnham, Mi. Ser- 
mon by R«T. Jm. Dnunmond, of Spxingfield, Mi. 

DBC. 1. BcT. ROBERT C. LEARNED, OT«r the 2d 
Cong. Ch. fai Berlin, Ct. Sennon by ReT. Ur. 
Held, of New London, Ct. 

Rer. CHARLES TENNET, OTer the PaTiUon 
Cong. Ch. in Biddelbrd, Me. 

Mr. JAMES 0. ROBERTS, over the 2d Cong. Ch. 
in VrankfiMTt, Me. Sennon by B«?. O. W. Field, 
of Boiton. 



2. 



DBC. 9. Rer. JAMBS WELLS, over the Gong. Oh. tii 
Dedh«m, Me. Sennon by Rer. Prof. Hanis, of 
Bangor. 

0. Mr. J. S. HOYT, over the Cong. Ch. in Port Hu- 
ron, Mich. 

16. Bfr. F. B. FELLOWS, over the Union Cong. Ch. 
in Kennebnnk, Me. Sermon by Prof. Phelpe. 

80. Rot. E. W. ALLEN, late of Salem, Ma., orer the 
Gong. Ch. in Soutn Berwick, Me. Sermon by 
Rev. Jamei M. Hoppin, of Salem. 



m-¥- 



(Eongresatfcinal Plhtistets MwciUti, 



DURIBO 1868. 



JAN. IS. Rer. I^ H. COBB, of No. Andorer, and 
MiH H. J. HERRIOK, of Makme, N. T. 

14. Rer. E. H. BTINGTON, of Royalton, Tt., and 
Miee ANN ELIZA, youngeet dangrhter of ReT. D. 
8. Hoyt, of New oaten, Yt. 

81. Rer. J. BRAOKETT, of New Salem, and Mn. 
SUSANNA UPHAM, of Wan, Me. 

MAT 4. Rer. O. N. WEBBER, of St. Johnibury. Tt, 
and Mies CHARLOTTE FAIRBANKS, of the 
same town. 

35. Rev. BENJAMIN SCUNJEIDEK, D.D., of Aintab, 
Syria, and Mtaa SUSAN M. ABBOTT, of Fram- 
ingham, Ms. 

JUNE 6. Rer. LTMAN B. PEET, of Fnh-Chan, 
ddna, and MIta HANNAH LOUISA PLIMPTON, 
ofSoQthbridge, Ma. 

la Rev. AUSTIN PHELPS, DJ)., Bartlett Profeaaor 
of Sacred Rhetoric In Andover Theological Semi- 
nary, and MIsa MARY A., daughter of Samoel 
Johnaon, Eaq., of Boaton. 

16. Rer. CLAR^fDON WATTE, of Rutland. Tt., 
and Miaa HARRIET 0., daughter of Mr. JAMES 
Baker, of PhiUipaton. 

28. Rev. WILLIAM OARRUTHERS, of Sandwich, 
Ma., and Mlaa MARTHA BAKER, of Ooahen. 

29. Rev. LTSANDBR DICKERMAN, of Glouceater, 
Ma., and Miaa LOUISA., daughter of Joaeph H. 
Tliayer, Eaq., of Boaton. 

JULY 6. Rev. AUGUSTUS 0. THOMPSON, of Rox- 
bury, Ma., and Mra. ELIZABETH, widow of the 
late Rev. Lyman Ontler, of Newton Comer, Ma. 

21. Rev. W. W. ANDREWS, of Wetherafleld, Ct., 
and Miaa ELIZABETH B., yonngeat daughter of 
the late John Williama. 



JULY 26. Rev. ALFRED STEARNS, of Weetmfaiiter, 
> Yt , and Miaa HARRIET N.. daughter of the late 
Amaaa Wood, of Millbnry, Ma. 

28. Rev. WM. HUTCHINSON, Mlaalonary to Tur- 
key, and Miaa F0RRE8TA G., daughter of Prof. 
Forreat Shepherd, of New Haven, Ot. 

29. Rev. JAMES P. KIMBALL, of Keokuk, Iowa, and 
Mlaa MARY P. DICKINSON, of Granby, Bla. 

AUG. 1. Rev. CHARLES BROOKS, of Byfield, Ma., 
and MiM NANCY L., dauriiter of DANIEL AD- 
AMS, Eaq., of Townaend, Ma. 

6. Rev. HIRAM MEAD, of South Hadley, Ma., and 
Mlaa ELIZABETH S. BILLINGS, of Andover, Ma. 

SEPT. 14. Rev. JAMES M. BELL, of Aahby, Ma., 
and MlBs SUSAN F. FRYE, of North Andover, Ma. 

28. Rev. WM. C. FOSTER, lae« of Lawrence, Ma., 
and Min MYRA G. ELLIOT, of Middletown, Ct. 

OCT. 20. Rev. EZRA ADAMS, of Gilaum. N. H., and 
Mlaa ALICE M. WARE, of Swanaey, N. H. 

20. Rev. WILLIAM SEWALL, of Lunenburg, Yt., 
and Mn. MARY B. DAYEE, of Portland, Me. 

27. Bev. ALBERT H. PLUMB, ot Cbelaea, Ma., and 
MIsa HARRIET ELIZA, eldest daughter of Jo- 
aeph Dart, Jr. Eaq , of Bufblo, N. Y. 

NOY. 9 Rev. ERASTUS COLTON, of Southwick, Ma., 
and Mrs. MARY A. BIATUEK, of CromweU, Ct. 

DEC. 11. Rev. HENRY C. FAY, of Northwood, N. H., 
and Miaa CAROLINE E. TALLMAN, of Rich- 
mond, Me. 

14. Rev. GEO. F. ALLEN, of Cambridgeport, Ma., and 
Miaa MARY A. LINCOLN, of Norton, lia. 



Congtesattonal iWfnisterst Beceaseti* 



DURING 1868. 



JAN. 6. Rev. ISAAC OARLETON, aet. 60, in Ox- 
ford, Me. 

II. Rev. HOLLOWAY W. HUNT, »t. 89, in Patoh- 
ogue, N. Y. 

26. Rev. THOMAS 8NELL, ast. 41, in Wetherafleld, 
Ilk 

FEB. 9. In BMgewater, Ot., Rer. FOSDICK HAR- 
RISON, let. 76, many years Paator of the Cong. 
Oh. in Bethlehem. 01. 

18. Rev. HORACB WOODRUFF, »t 64, in Hunting- 
ton, L. I. 

22. Rev. JONATHAN BARTLETT, aet. 98, In Red- 
ding, Ct. 

21 Rev. JOSEPH BLOOMER, et. 80, in McGregor, 
Iowa. 

27. Rev. LYMAN CASE, SBt. 66, of Coventry, Ct. 

MARCH 2. Rev. T. A. TAYLOR, set. 49, Paator of 
the Cong. Ch. in Slateravllle, R. I. 

10. Rev. N. W. TAYLOR, D.D., «t. 72 ; Dwlght 
Pro fc a e or of Didactic Theology in Yale Coll., 
Mew Haven, Ct. 



MARCH 17. Rev. LABAN AINSWORTH, «»t. 100, in 
Jaffrey, N. H. 

APRIL 1. Rev. NATHANIEL CHAPMAN, «»t. 69, of 
PIttaton, Me. 

4. Rev. ALYAN UNDERWOOD, aet. 79, of Weat 
;f^oodatock, Ct. 

MAY 14. Rev. RENNET TYLER, D.D., »t 76, 
late Profcsaor of Theology in the Seminary in 
Bast ^Indaor Ct. 

16. Rev. H. R. HOISINGTON, aat. 66, in Saybrook, 
Ct. 

21. Rev. DANIEL HUNTINGTON, formerly of No. 
Brldgewater, and Campello, Ma., aet. 70, in New 
London, Ct. 

80. Rev. LUTHBR R. WHITE, et 42, in Brighton, 
Iowa. 

JUNE 2. Rev. SAMUEL ANDREWS, «t. 71 in New 
Haveq, Ct. 

12. Rev. STEPHEN D. WARD, «t. 67 ; Pastor of 
the Gong. Ch. in Agawam. Ms. 



104 Quarter^ Meeting (f the Chng. Library AimeiaUan. [Jan. 



JUN1 19. IUt. XLI8HA BOCKWOOD, DJ)., «t 80, 

la SiTMiiBj, N. H. 
81. R«T. LUTHBR WRIGHT, »t 88, tn Wobonif Mi. 

ai. B«T. OBANVILLB WARDWXLL, mU 88, ftmMT- 
]/ of KiUipiti~*i Mkh., in WcMmlMter, Tfc. 

JULY 6. B«T. OBRA PKABSON,»t. 80, In PMehun, 

Vt. 
M. IUt. LINCOLN RIPLET, at. 97 jmii, 10 mot., 

in Watcrfbrd, If •. 

S9. R»T. JBRBMIAH ATWATSR, «t 84, in N«w 
HftTen, Cfe. 

AUG. 28. R«T. KPHRADf O. SWIFT, »t. 78, in 
BuflUo, N. T. 

SEPT. 1. R«T. BENJAMIN SMITH, «t 43, in 
Utehflald, Ct. 

7. Her. JOSHUA R. BROWN, wt 46, in But Long- 
mMdow, Ma. 



OCT. 14. B«T. JOHN 8AWTBR, DD., at. 108, In 

Bftttgor, M«. 
^ R«T. AUSTIN 0. HUBBARD, at. CO, in BimtUt- 

boro', Yt. 

^ Rot. JOHN FERGUSON, at. 70, in Whatelj, Mi. 

NOT. 18. R«T. AMOS SAYAQil, at. 60, in N«w 
HaTen,Ct. 

DEO. 7. In Owlukd, Yt, Itor. HENRY WHITE, at 
67, fbnnerly orLonpnMdow, Mi. 

16. In SliefBald, Ms., R«t JAS. BRADFORD, at. 72. 

24. In Fitelilnirg, Mi., Rar. JOHN S. FARWBLL, 

at. 49. 
26. In G«(n«Btown, Mi., Rer. ISAAC BRAMAN, 
at Ml. 
DTTlM aTtnflt tfe of tbe 88, abort loeordad, is 
Marlj 67 7Mn~«n nneoounonly high aToraft. Tha 
paretntagaof nortaUty is as 86 to 2,408,or 1,49. 



QUABTERLY MEBTING OF THE CONGREGATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. 

The Conductors of this Journal, as the public have already been informed, intend to report 
the doings of the body abore^named ; and they hope also to enrich its pages by occasionally 
inserting a paper communicated through this medium. The meetings, which occur regularly 
on the last Wednesday afternoons of February, May, August and Norember, are open to all 
members, and have generally afforded an ample recompense for the time and trouble of at- ' 
tending. 

At the last meeting Mr. David Pulsifer, who was expected to read a paper previously aa- 
signed, having been unavoidably prevented from making the requisite preparation, took up 
the ease of the Jewish child Mortara, whose abduction and Popish baptism have produced 
such a stir throughout Christendom, and entertained the audience with an unwritten state- 
ment of the hardships imposed on that cast-off nation. 

The same gentleman also read, and subsequently presented to the Association, a manuscript 
letter from Rev, George Whi^/ield " to the Honorable Josiah Willard, Esq., of Boston," dated 
** New-town in Maryland, May 6, 1747," expressing deep concern about ** dear New Eng- 
land's sorrowful circumstances." We give the following extract : ** Glad would I be to come snd 
offer myself once more to do New England serrice ; but I am afraid many ministers, and the 
heads of the people would not bear it. However, was this my only reason, it would soon be 
answered. But here are thousands in these southern parts (as you observed, Honored Sir,) 
that scarce ever heard of redeeming grace and love. Is it not my duty, as an itinerant, since 
other places have had their calls and awakening seasons, to go where the gospel has not been 
named? Those that think I want to make a party, or disturb churches, do not know me. I 
am willing to hunt in the woods after sinners ; and, according to the present temper of my 
mind, would be content that the name of George Whitfield should die, if thereby the name 
of my dear Redeemer could be exalted." 



The Editors of the Ccngregationid Quaritrly beg the indulgence of the public for a slight 
delay in the printing of this their first issue, which has been made unavoidable by the illness 
of one of their number. They also hope that the contents of the number will be judged with 
leniency in the recollection that, with the exception of the brief article on *< Father Sawyer," 
which was prepared beforehand for another use, every line has been written as well as printed 
within the last five weeks. Hereafter th4 tables, statistics, &c. &c., will be so made up as to 
evade some liabilities to error which have been unavoidable in the haste with which eTery- 
thing has been necessarily done. They have such arrangements in progress that they feel 
sure of being able t» give to every one who may be pleased to become a subscriber to this 
QitarUrly much more than the flill worth of his subscription, in various kinds of matter, not 
easily to be had elsewhere. They especially bespeak the kind patronage of the ministry and 
deacons of the denomination whose interests, biographical and otherwise, will be specially 
had in remembrance. If only every Congregational Minister and Deacon should become a 
subscriber, we should at once gain a list which would enable us greatly to enrich our pages, 
without increase of price.^— Several biographies— including one of Dea. David Goodale, of 
Marlboro', Ms., and one of Dea. Moses Webster of Haverhill, West Par., Ms.,— in type, have 
been, unavoidably, crowded over to the next number. 



0m. 






i^ik-^x"*'^*^^^ \ 



N ' 





aZ^^y-fi-ayza^ €i/,irr>Tri^ 



THE 



^ffttflnjgattffttal ^ttarterlg. 



Vol. L— APBIL, 1859/— No. H. 



LEONARD WOODS. 

*T MMT, a. A., ULmXKCM, S.D., XAtT VDCSSOK HIUi, OT. 

LmvABD WboBA wailxnm in Prince- of those- gentle and loving apiriti, wbOM 

ton, M«kL, m te iMi of June, 1774. iceptre of inflnence is the more potent, 

Thn% among those green and snnnjr hills, because so mild, that its satrjects ate nn- 

commeaeed his existence, whose life and conscious of an3rthing but pleasure in ae- 

labon hiifve enteied lai^ljr into that lor- quiescence. >^th an unwavering faith 

mative inflnence, which divine Providence in the covenant promises, she gave back 

is emploTing ftir die worid's culture and all her children to God, who had given 

Christiaaliation. He was baptized the them to her. And when her son Leon^ 

day he wa^ bom; parental piety seeking ard was debating the question of strog- 

this pn-engagement of ootenant grace at gling for a liberal education, and his father 

the veiy itartittg point The &ther and had told him he could render him but lit* 

mother, wiA tibie parish minister and a tie assistance, — confiding in God and her 

few fHends, were Uie only visible actors own resolute will, she said to him, ** I can 

and w itnes s es in this transaction. But, on help you along." And she sought wool 

that same day, aceoiding to the divine de- and flax, ** and laid her hand to the spin- 

cree, |m entry was made in the Book of die," thus nobly redeeming her pledge. 

Life. And there were invisible spectatmv The sturdy, oak-like characteristics of 

of the baptismal scene, fhm& those **• nunis- the father were finely blended in the sooi 

tering spirits seat fbrth to minister for with the vine-like nature of the mother, 

them who shall be heirs of salyadon." He was not one of those prodigies that 

The father, Lemuel Woods, though come to their maturity in the cradle, or 

without classical culture, was familiar with soon afVcr leaving it, though he eariy dis- 

thestandard English authors in Literature, covered a love for books, and for those 

Philosophy, and Theology. And he pos- especially which led him to think. He 

aessed a power of penetration, which qual- was often attracted from the sports com- 

ified him to explore the higher regions of mon to children of his own age, by the 

metaphysical thought with success and conversations and philosophical discussions 

delight of his father with the neighbors. When 

The mother, Abigail Woods, was one six or seven, he commenced the study of 

VOL. I. 14 



106 



Leonard Woods. 



[Afbil, 



Arithmetic, by copying examples on birch- 
bark, as he heard them given to a class of 
large boys at school ; and he obtained the 
answer as soon as they, and sometimes 
sooner. At home, his father gave him 
more difficult problems, letting him study 
several days till he had solved them, rath- 
er than assist him. STo this early disci- 
pline, he felt himself indebted for much of 
that patience and perseverance in inves- 
tigation which characterized his after life. 
If he had fewer books to read, like other 
children of that generation, they were not 
mere tinctures or phantoms of knowledge, 
but, for the most part, solid and useful. 
And they were also better read, and oflen, 
from sheer necessity, re-read and pon- 
dered, until the facts and principles which 
they contained were digested, and incor- 
porated into the mind*s life and activities. 
In this way the thoughtful boy made his 
entrance early into the Mathematics, His- 
tory, Philosophy and Christian Doctrine, 
not by forcing processes, but gladsomely, 
as into the familiar apartments of his own 
lather's house. 

The father intended him for a farmer, 
— to take the homestead and be the staff 
of his old age. But his mother, under the 
divine guidance, had other plans, in the 
unfolding of which, the father gradually 
gave way. The son, too, seems early to 
have leaned to his mother's side. He 
wished for a thorough education, when as 
yet there was no prospect of such a boon, 
and he had a thought not clearly defined, 
that he might, — perhaps an expectation 
that he should be, a minister. A sickness, 
occasioned by what we usually term an 
accident, but which was really a provi- 
dence, was prolonged till the father*8 de- 
sign respecting his son was weakened, 
and the mother's had grown into sove- 
reignty. By such means, God brought his 
purpose to the inception, and it was de- 
cided that Leonard should immediately 
begin the study of Latin, which he did 
with the parish minister. This was a de- 
terminative period, which gave direction 
to the whole course of his subsequent 
history. 



His preparation for college was mostly 
a matter of self-culture. Three months 
were all the regular academical tuition 
his circumstances would allow. These 
were qpent at Leicester, under the excel- 
lent training of Mr. Adams, afterwards 
professor of Mathematics in Dartmouth 
College. 

He entered at Harvard in 1792. His 
college life drew him froin the salutary 
influences of home, and brought him into 
new trials of his principles, and new 
temptations to swerve from them. It 
was, too, at the darkest period, morally, 
in the history of our country. The 
infidelity which had jnade France a seeth- 
ing caldron of malignant passions, had 
stretched across the ocean, and was set- 
tling thick as night on all the land. It 
entered the institutions of learning, and 
the lights of piety went out During a 
part of young Woods' college course, the 
late Dr. John H. Church was the only 
professor of religion in the four classes. 
In Yale, the state of things was but little 
better. It was the fashion to laugh at 
Christianity, after the manner of Voltaire 
and Paine, and it was deemed a mark of 
superior intellect and wisdom to pity, or 
to scorn a believer in its doctrines. The 
discourses of Dr. Dwight arrested this 
evil in Yale College, though it continued 
in Harvard. He punctured the balloon 
on which the stripling philosophers had 
soared so high, and with the collapse, the 
theological aeronauts suddenly descended 
to a sobriety in which they saw that it is 
the fool and not the wise man that says, 
" There is no God." 

Mr. Woods was better prepared by his 
early religious training to withstand such 
pernicious influences, than most of his com- 
panions. His associations and his convic- 
tions were on the side of faith in the 
Christian Doctrines. He therefore re- 
pelled the open and gross assaults upon 
them, while in the subtler and more se- 
ductive forms of the Priestlian specula- 
tions, the poison took eflect He was 
attracted to this materialistic philosophy, 



1859.] 



Leonard Woods. 



107 



thb philosophic natnraliflni, as many others 
baTO been, by what he took to be a firmer 
basis in the attested properties of matter, 
tiian could be found for the doctrines of 
grace in the realm of mind and of supema- 
tnralism. But he did not reflect that the 
eridence on which he accepted the exist- 
ence and properties of matter came to him 
tiiroagh the cognitions of his own mind, and 
that therefore the material philosophy must 
be logically baseless, except as it rests on 
something firmer in what is mental and spi- 
ritual. Another attractive point in this di- 
rection which gave force to his rationalistic 
tendencies, was, that these speculations 
exalt the human reason into an arbiter, 
and give it jurisdiction over all God's 
works and his Word, adjusting the pur- 
poses and wisdom of the infallible Creator 
to the judgment of the fallen and fallible 
creature. It makes no allowance for the 
dubious and defaulted character of the 
general reason, nor for the endless varia- 
tions and contradictions and absurdities of 
the individual reasoners. This line of 
thought, was new to him, and it seemed 
original and profound. It chimed with 
that pride of opinion, and self-reliant ad- 
Tenture, so common in the heat of youth- 
ful and immature scholarship, which, as 
Dngald Stewart says, ** grasps at general 
principles, without submitting to the pre- 
▼ioos study of particular facts." It is 
what Lord Bacon terms the sole cause 
and root of almost every defect in the 
sciences — that ** while we falsely admire 
and extol the powers of the human mind, 
we do not search for its real helps." It is 
the philosophy of abstraction, not of pa- 
tient investigation and induction. It 
opened to him a new way of adjusting, 
satisfactorily to his conscience, his own 
state and relations to his Maker, and one 
apparently so simple and easy, as to cast 
suspicion upon ** the old paths " \i^ which 
the fathers had walked with God. 

This was the state of Mr. Woods' mind 
in relation to these great problems, when 
be was graduated in 1796, bearing with 
bim the first awards of scholarship. Says 



his friend and classmate, the Rer. Samuel 
Dana, of Marblehead, ** He was decidedly 
the first member of the class for intellee- 
tual attainment, among such competitors 
as John Pickering, and James Jackson. 
He had the highest assignment at com- 
mencement, and delivered an oration 
which was much admired for its literary 
excellence." 

On leaving College, he marked out for 
himself a plan of study in Philosophy, 
History, and Belles Lettres, and of general 
reading, which was to occupy the two fol- 
lowing years. Retiring to his father's, in 
Princeton, he entered upon this plan with 
the greatest enthusiasm. The excellent 
library of Rev. Thomas Prince, the dis- 
tinguished chronologer, to whose memory 
a worthy tribute was paid in the first 
number of this Journal, had been taken 
to Princeton, by Lieut Gov. Gill. He 
was the son-in-law of Mr. Prince, and, in- 
heriting the estate of his wife's father, she 
being the only child that survived his 
death, this valuable library came into his 
possession. To this storehouse of learn- 
ing, free access was given to Mr. Woods, 
as it had been while in college, and to his 
father before him. He resumed his study 
of Priestly, and commenced JustinianYi 
Institutes, preparatory to a thorough 
course of Roman History. This more 
solid study was diversified with Marmon- 
tel, Ossian, or Thompson's Seasons, a 
novel of Richardson, Don Quixote, or 
some of the standard English Dramas. 

The Rev. Joseph Russel had just been 
ordained Pastor of the Church in Prince- 
ton, and still lives in Ellington, Ct, a 
rich repository of useful information, 
bringing forth fruit in a ripe and venera- 
ble old age. Speaking of Mr. Woods at 
this period, he says : 

'* On his return to Princeton, afler 
Commencement, he attended our meet- 
ings regularly on the Sabbath, and 
appeared, I thought, an attentive hearer. 
In the series of discourses from the desk, 
during that period, the doctrines of grace 
were considered, proved from Scripture, 



108 JLecmrd W(¥^. [Anfl, 

«iqiMQ.«4 4ikI itpplML .... Tkeaedoc- WoodtvpplM ^9^h^ 9MiK^1» ppfe«ftf 

j^tinfi^ were pretty cert«in to come up in pnelbodioiilly, nad to imA ^^h^\ogy afior 

QQnypr^atiofU ^ ^ viaited me from time W h«d completed spch MMdieis ai hfi 

to tune- His feeling, as I had abundant thought should precede i$^ This did not 

Hjvidence, 49t strongly against many of satisfy his friend, i^r he meant, not dog- 

ftff^m. His leading and associations had matic, but practical Theolofry, and h^ dM 

IMde a d^cp impression upon hb mind, not part with Mr. Woods till be prosaiaed 

IHi&Torable to theee doctrines, and to to procure the life of Dr. Poddiid^ and 

those ministers then on the stage, most read it without delay. After his veturp 

^ist^nguisfeked ^r preaching the Calvinis- from Cambridge, this prome proved a 

tip i^stem in its purijty and power. As burden to him. But, although he setnm- 

}^ made pljection.s, I endeavored to ed to his literary prqjec^ witjh redoubled 

jpbviate them. And, thoii^h his mind ardpr, he determined to pal&i it. He 

appeared to yield in some degree, his pre- thereft>re, qet apart a short time, ni^ and 

pofpessicns were too strong and deep- morning far the perusal of the Bible, the 

xpoted to be removed at once. But life of Doddridge, and other religious 

t|at>ughQut there was evidently great boo)LS, " supposing," as he says, *' thai he 

^aodo^f and an honest desire to come to could thus infuse a leaven of piety into 

•the truth, and a willingness to gain in- all his studies and conduct" In Dr. 

atrncjtion, come from what source it Doddridge's Life, he discovered principles 

^j^ht." of action and traits of chaivcter to which 

An entiy in Mr. Woods' Journal, after he felt himself a stranger. This led to 

4pie of these interviews, shows that he was self-knowledge, and made him anxious in 

daeply in^uresped with the prudence, regard to his own moral state. From th^ 

IDpdesty and gentl^iess of hb reverend Life of Doddridge, he proceeded to his 

i^piend, and that he considered him greatly ** Rise and Progress," dwelling particn* 

.snperior to himself in true wisdom and larly on the devotional exerciaes ^ the 

gpodness. ^ Some painful reflections," he end of each chapter. In this connection, 

^ntinnes, <* were fiirced upon me on my he carefully read, or rather studied, at the 

jray home. I felt my want of real virtue suggestion of his pastor, the first nine 

and piety, while my reason declared their clusters of the Epistle to the Knnmniw 

indiapensable importance." During this the Epistles to the Galatians and ihfi 

pappd of doubt, darkening into unbeliei^ £phiesians,and the third chapter of John's 

Ihe Lord Jesus was his ideal of virtue. Gospel. This he did amidst many per- 

Before the exc^lence of his character, he plexities, and with distressing trials of 

bowed in the most profound reverence, spirit Here, on this groundj the two 

** Whether he be man, angel, or God," antagonistic tendencies in him met, and 

he aays, ^ there is something in the char- tried their strength. Philosophy was 

acter of Jesus Christ which attracts and arrayed against f^uth, and reason againal 

wanns the soul. I would rather follow revelation, ^e saw distinctly the mo- 

him, or be like him, than to excel the mentous conclusions that hung on the 

most illustrious name in the history of the issue- If Paul and Jesus are reliable 

world." expounders of the doctrines of faith and 

At the commencement of the next term of salvation. Priestly and all others who 

in College, he visited Cambridge. His set aside those doctrines, must be held as 

friend, Mr. Church, just entering on his sciolists and teachers of error. On this 

Senior year, saw the drift of his mind, there was a bard struggle. The skepti- 

and true then as ever after, to his evan- cal philosophy had drawn him to this 

gelical principles, snggested that he had class of writers by a mesmeric spell which 

better read something on Theolpgy. Mr. was not easily broken. And further^ aa 



imn] 



Zecswd WixKlt. 



m 



)i# if^ttl 'OH fmjwMif stadying the 
8oHp|t«re8, tUs n^ernative gradually fxre- 
90iite4 UtM He must place upoo ihp 
la^ignpigp of the apostles and the Saviour, 
a CQQStractioii which his cooscience would 
mit idlow in the interpretation of other 
liriteTs, or accept what had come to be 
Ilia repulsive ^stem of John Calvin and 
the Catechisiii. This, as we might well 
•opposOf staggered him still more. He 
ooiikl not ignore the alternative, and he 
eonld no more go round it than Balaam 
could go round the confronting angeL 
And, when he reflected what was at stake, 
he did not wish to turn back from it As 
he advanced in his inquiries, his interest 
iaereaaed. His literary pursuits were 
$nt intermitted, and then wholly sus- 
pended. From the disclosures thus made 
to him of his own condition ^ a sinner, 
all odier questions were, for a time merged 
in 4o momentous one propounded to the 
apoftles in Acts ii : 37. He had read his 
character in the Word of God as in a 
QiirTor, and he was confounded. And he 
read ao much more than he knew before, 
or even suspected, and which his con- 
acionsnefls now authenticated as true, that 
ha was certain that the revelation was 
divine, even to the minima of its aver- 
ments. He questioned and re-questioned, 
first his own heart, and then the in- 
ipired picture, and found both ever 
ntareing the same answer. The main 
points of the controversy were now dis- 
tinctly before him, and all converged to 
the alternative of acceptance of salvation 
om the Gospel terms, or its deliberate re- 
jection. In describing this part of the 
mental conflict, no words can be so ex- 
pressive as his own, in a letter to his 
friend, Mr. Church. 

** You wish to hear of the health of my 
ioaL After I wrote to you, I grew lower 
and lower. The exercises of my mind 
were very violent I feared a relapse 
into carelessness and unconcern. I could 
not obtain an answer to my prayers. I 
was clamorous in my address to God, but 
I ooold&ot find him. I sank, I sank! 



O the depths of despair \ Teiver, amae^ 
ment, cold chills of body and mind, some- 
times a flood of sorrow, hard thoughts of 
€rod, dreadful conceptions of his charac- 
ter, — I have no words to express my state, 
for about a week. I felt my health de** 
dining. I wandered about I Iried to 
run from myself. I awoke in the morn- 
ing and read my sentence for having 
committed the unpardonable sin. I should 
have preferred millions of mil}ions of 
millions of centuries of the most exquisite 
inisery to my chance*' 

Six weeks later, when the opposition 
of hb heart had been overcome, and the 
rising light was beginning to shine, hf 
writes to the same friend : 

'* I am a poor tempest-beaten creature. 
One day I feel quite easy ; the next I 
chide my foolish hopes. One time I give 
myself to Christ; another I fear I did not 
do what I thought I did. When I get a 
little joy by supposing that Christ will 
accept me, then I begin to think I am a 
little less sinful. That thought makes me 
more sa Alas, what snares I have been 
in!" 

But the tempest gradually subsided into 
the calmness of perfect peace, and the 
light continued to shine more and more 
unto the perfect day. His schemes of lit- 
erary ambition were entirely abandoned, 
and he devoted himself thenceforward to 
the Christian ministry. 

In this marked character of his eariy 
Christian experience, we find a key to 
Mr. Woods' views of Christian doctrine 
and life, as subsequently matured. He 
was ever afler impressed with an abiding 
sense of sin, as the great evil, with the 
necessity of the renewal of the whole man, 
and of forgiveness of sins through faith in 
the righteousness of Christ And the 
greater his advancement in personal holi- 
ness, the more visibly appeared the turpi- 
tude of his transgressions, and the nearer 
was he drawn to Christ, in humble and 
loving obedience. ** The sight of a thou- 
sandth part of my sinfulness of heart and 
life has filled me with amazement and 



110 



Lemard Woods. 



[Apbii^ 



shame. But O ! " he adds, ** there is 
rery plenteous redemption, sufficient even 
for me^ and if for me, for any one on 
earth." 

Such a work of the Holy Spirit carries 
the mind deeper than the surface, down 
to the very center of the Pauline doctrine 
of sin. It also interprets that moral an- 
tagonism in the progress of the Christian 
life, so graphically portrayed by the Apos- 
tle from the double standpoint of inspi- 
ration and the Christian consciousness. 
«• For the good that I would," he says, ** I 
do not; but the evil which I would not,' 
that I do. For I delight in the law of 
God after the inward man. But I see 
another law in my members, warring 
against the law of my mind." Augustine, 
by a similar experience, was brought to 
the same view. " Tole^ lege! tole, lege ! " 
fell from a child's voice upon his ear, in 
the beating of his agonized soul against its 
prison-bars. He rose, opened the epistles 
of Paul, and read, ** Put ye on the Lord 
Jesus." They were like living words 
from the lips of the great Helper, and 
the captive was made free. Of his far- 
ther conflict, ho says, " The spirit orders 
the body and it obeys instantly ; the spirit 
orders itself, and it refuses. Whence this 
monstrosity ? It is a disease of the spirit 
that prevents it from rising up; the will 
is split and divided, thus there are two 
wills in conflict with each other, one good 
and one evil, and / myself it was who 
willed f and who did not tcill.** Martin 
Luther obtained a clew to the same philo- 
sophy of sin in his convent struggles at 
Erfurth, when he cried out in bitterest 
grief, ^* O ! my sin, my sin, my sin! It is 
in vain that I make promises to God, sin 
is always too strong for me." " Cast.your- 
self into the arms of the Redeemer," 
said Staupitz. " Trust in him, in the 
righteousness of his life, in the expiating 
sacrifice of his death." And when the 
Augustine monk applied his anxious mind 
to those same epistles to the Romans and 
EphesiaYis on which our aspiring, but 
tempest'toflsed New England ftodent re- 



flected 80 deeply, and foond written there, 
•« The just shall live by faith$" from thai 
hour he went forth in the exuberance of 
the new life of love and faith, joyfully sing* 
ing, •* 1 believe, I believe in the forgiee^ 
ness of sins." ** His struggle of spirit," 
says the historian, ** had prepared him to 
understand the meaning of the inspired 
Word. The soil had been deeply 
ploughed, and the incorruptible seed took 
deep root" No other than Luther^s tjrpe 
of theology could grow out of Luther's 
experience, nor any other than Augus- 
tine's out of Augustine's experience. 

This view of the inner life of Mr. Woods, 
during his early conflicts, discloses the 
secret of that clear conception of the 
fundamental Christian doctrines, which 
marked his subsequent history, and of the 
iron grasp with which he ever held thena. 
The processes of his mind, in which he 
was transferred from a dead and deaden- 
ing philosophy, to a living and loving 
faith, were not produced by the heat of 
an excited assembly, or the rhetorical 
appliances of professional revivalists. 
They were carried on, for the most part, 
in the solitary walk, in the quiet of his 
own room, and in the sleepless hours of 
night It was not a time of God's gra- 
cious visitation to His Church, in which 
some minds are in danger of being moved 
only by human sympathy ; but just the 
opposite. Doddridge, prayer, and the 
Bible, were the instruments, and God the 
agent Hence his faith in the historical 
doctrines of Christianity was not a hered- 
itary, or a blind faith. His skeptical read- 
ing and reasonings had, in a great degree, 
efl*aced the teachings of his godly parents, 
but these had been effectually replaced 
and made vital by the Spirit of God, 
through his own independent examina- 
tions. He clearly perceived that these 
foundation doctrines of the Church are 
supported by the still deeper underlying 
facts of history. His creed, therefore, 
was never obliged to oflTer apologies to 
his understanding. It asked no concea- 
sion from philosophy, as if conciliatioQ 



1859.] 



Leonard Woodt. 



Ill 



coald be leciired only by dishonoring 
eompromise. But hb individual reason, 
enlightened and rectified by the pure and 
nniversal Reason, demanded that creed as 
necessary to its completeness and comfort 
Careful reading, and more of it, led him 
to question, not only the correctness, but 
the originality of what had attracted him 
aa subverave of the faith of the fathers, 
and as new. Careful reflection also soon 
showed that to be essentially contracted 
and shallow, which, under the lead of a 
peculiar class of minds, and from intent 
looking only in one direction, he had 
taken to be catholic and profound. It 
was a little knowledge that made him 
dkepticaL A wider range of thought, 
with deep experience, made him most 
devoutly believing. Infidelity i;i always 
and everywhere ** a vain deceit" Such 
the experience of Mr. Woods found it ; 
and he did not parley, but parted with it 
at once, entirely and forever. And he 
passed over into the center of the faith- 
doctrine freely, from the spontaneous affin- 
itks of the new birth. As was said of 
Dr. Chalmers, he did not force himself 
into it, but walked into it He did not 
fight his way, but found it open. And, once 
entered, the clearness of his perceptions, 
and the grasp of his faith, kept him fixedly 
remote from those laxities of doctrine 
and attenuating negations, which, like an 
isthmus, attempt to conjoin the opposing 
continentsof belief and unbelief. Never- 
theless, his experience of the skeptical 
philosophy was of no small service to him 
as a teacher of theology in later years. 
It enabled him to judge more correctly 
of the strength of the infidel side, to 
look lull in the face every rationalistic 
objection, and calmly strip it of all its 
sophistries and guises of truth. 

While under the lingering influence of 
fonner associations, he consulted with 
some of his College friends in reference 
to studying theology with them, under 
the direction of Dr. Tappan, of Cam- 
bridge, Rev. Mr. Bobbins, of Plymouth, 
or some other moderate Calvinist. But 



more mature thought, with the inflnenoe 
of his parents' and pastor, induced him to 
place himself, in company with Mr. Church, 
under the care of Dr. Backus, of Sbmers, 
Ct., whose reputation as a sound and 
successful teacher, drew to him some of 
the most promising students in New Eng- 
land. 

He was licensed to preach in the 
Spring of 1798, by the Cambridge Asso- 
ciation ; and in the following summer, was 
called to the Church in Newbury, as its 
Pastor. There were serious difiiculties in 
deciding the question of settlement. It 
was a large and influential Society. But 
the Church, with many others in New 
England, had adopted the Half Way 
Covenant— an expedient resorted to by 
the early settlers — to make amends for 
their error in limiting the rights of free- 
men to Church membership. Those who 
were aggrieved by this limitation, demand- 
ed either the right of suffrage, or exemp- 
tion from taxation. The State refused 
the latter, therefore the Church opened 
its door and admitted them, though unre- 
generate, thus granting them sufirage in 
the Church, as well as in the State. To 
defend itself again8t this error, or to make 
the evil tree bring forth good fruit, a 
regenerating efficacy came to be ascribed 
to the Lord's Supper, by which the unre- 
newed members of the Chun h might be 
converted. A third evil soon followed in 
this lapsing logic, and as the outgrowth of 
the former two ; namely, that the impeni- 
tent can make an acceptable use of the 
means of regeneration, — a dogma, which 
was briefly termed *' unregenerate doings." 
Now, to all these, Mr. Woods was intelli- 
gently and steadfastly opposed. He fore- 
saw the perils liable in any attempt to 
remove such antiquated errors and evils. 
But his way was finally made plain. He 
writes, '' I believe I have a providential 
call ; if so, it is not my duty to do any- 
thing that will directly counteract that 
call. But it is not a call unless I can 
comply with it, without violating my duty. 
So I must do duty and leave the event 



112 



Leohard WoodB. 



[AMEt% 



But Ihen I am doabtfhl irbat my doty is. 
I consider the Half Way CoTenant an 
error, and am willing to do everything, 
atid shall do ererything in my power, to 
extirpate it Now, shall I be most likely 
to conquer this enemy by deserting the 
field becanse I cannot at once prevail, or 
by keeping my ground, and persevering 
in the contest ?" 

Previously to the ordination, he drew 
up, with great care, a declaration of his 
faith, to be submitted to the Council, occu- 
pying four pages of foolscap, clos^y writ- 
tto. It was an unambiguous and full 
statement of his theological opinions. In 
the carefulness which marked all his 
movements, in assuming responsibility, 
Mr. Woods placed this paper in the hands 
of Rev. Joseph Dana, the patriarchal 
pastor of the ancient Church in Ipswich, 
requesting him to note what, if anything, 
he found not accordant with the teachings 
of Scripture. At the desire of the pastor 
elect, Mr. Dana read the statement to the 
Council, and concluded by expressing his 
entire agreement with every sentiment 
contained in it. As the several articles, 
" I believe," ** I believe," succeeded each 
other. Dr. Osgood, of Medford, whose 
liberal tendencies led him to oppose all 
creeds, broke out upon the young man, — 
** You believe ten times as much now as 
you will when you are as old as I am." 
The prediction, however significant it 
may have been of any unbelief in the 
prophet, since it did not come to pass, was 
evidently '* the thing which the Lord had 
not spoken." 

In the curriculum preparatory to the 
ministry, the study of Hebrew, at that 
time, had no place. Mr. Woods at once 
saw the importance of it, on entering upon 
his ministerial duties, and commencing 
the study immediately, he determined 
that no common events should hinder him 
front a competent knowledge of the 
Hebrew Bible. The results of this reso- 
lution laid open to him the contents of the 
Old Testament in the exact forms of 
thought ill which they came from the 



inspired penmen. This ga^re him one ef 
his best qualifications as a preacher and 
teacher of Christian Theology. He read 
many books, but he was evidently the 
student of this one book — the Bible. It 
was his sovereign arbiter, from whose 
decisions he sufiered no appeal, thoogh 
he gained from every leaf of the book of 
nature, elucidation and proof of its dictm. 
The first question that met him in its 
study was, what does it mean? After 
this, there was really no other, either in 
respect to the truth of die doctrines, or 
the duty of faith and obedience. The 
pseudo wise ones of our time, and of i^ 
times, call this reverence for the Bible, 
Bibliolatry and mental vassalage. Be it 
so. He gloried in such enthralment to 
heavenly wisdom. He exulted in this 
bondage of love to eternal law ; for he 
found the completeness of his freedom to 
be exactly as the strength of these bonds. 
His veneration for the Scriptures as 
divine, even to the letter, was the prin- 
ciple that underlay all others, in his study 
6£ them as a pastor and a teacher. He 
delivered himself up wholly to their 
guidance, mentally and religiously, be- 
cause his reason and consciousness taught 
him that it was the guidance of God. 
Under a similar formative influence of 
the divine Word, Rudolph Stier says: 
" It is because this living Word, in a 
thousand ways, has directed, and is ever 
directing, my inner being with all its 
intelligence, thought and will, that I have 
subjected to it the freedom of my whole 
being." 

As a preacher, Mr. Woods did not, as 
many in the Middle Ages did, and as 
some still do, divorce religion from rea- 
son, — faith from philosophy ; but he made 
theology the queen of the sciences, and em- 
ployed philosophy, and all other sciences, 
to give point and force to the purely goe- 
pel message. If his preaching at this 
early period was not so rich and compact 
in thought as later, it was yet peculiarly 
frerii, suggestive, and sometimes startling. 
It did not let the hearers sleep in their 



1859.] 



Leonard Woods. 



113 



pews, and often,. not on their pillows, till 
compunction had been followed by con- 
fessions and amendment His themes 
awakene<l new trains of thought, and his 
manner of treating them — logical, lucid 
and illustrative — impressed them strongly 
upon his auditors. They reflected on his 
sermons. They talked about them. They 
debated among themselves the ^* hard 
sayings" which they contained. They 
searched the Scriptures to see whether 
these things were so, and afler this, the 
people and the preacher generally came 
into pretty close agreement In his earn- 
est pressing of man*s great sin, and God*s 
greater salvation, on the dead ear of the 
world, and the dull life of the Church, 
youthful fire oflen kindled his mild blue 
eye into a magnetic eloquence, and 
wroaght his whole manly figure into a 
glow of simple but graceful action. This 
gave to his sermons, at times, the might 
of a living Gospel. 

The period of Mr. Woods' pastorate 
favored the development of his leading 
trsuts of character, and called for such 
men as he proved himself to be. The 
firm stand made by the elder Edwards, 
against the incursions of error, had, in a 
degree, been given up, under the delusive 
idea of victory; and the controversies 
which followed, when Bellamy and Hop- 
kins stood against Mayhew, Mills, Mather, 
Hart and Hemmenway, had subsided 
into a truce, in which the old faith 
was the loser. The theological atmos- 
phere of New England was comparatively 
calm ; but it was the quiet, partly of 
iodifTerentism, and partly of collecting 
forces for new and more earnest engage- 
ments. The ^vinis of Arminian and 
Socinian errors,ythough checked, had 
been working in and around Boston, 
lecretly or openly, for half a century. 
Doctrines were decried as indigestible 
i^nd unprofitable — meaning, however, only 
the old and generally accepted ones. 
Doctrinal difierences were reputed as of 
little moment ; but it was by those who 
were msufily intent on building up new 

VOX.. I. 15 



doctrines on the alle<i^d error and worth- 
lessness of the old ones. Dr. Porter, of 
Roxbury, one of the negative theologians, 
in a Convention sermon, said of Original 
Sin, Imputation, Trinity, The Deity of 
Christ, and other affiliated doctrines, 
" Neque teneo, neque repello." Exami- 
nations for licensure and ordination, were 
complained of as inquisitorial, and resisted 
by men who were in via media, between f 
Evangelism and Infidelity. Time hon« 
ored confessions of faith were eschewed, 
or attenuated, by an expurgating exegesis, 
to their feeblest substance of doctrines ; 
and the inspiration of the Scriptures c» 
which they rested, was reduced into com- 
patibility with false logic, false facts, and 
false doctrines in the writers. Old col- 
lections of Psalms and Hymns were dis- 
placed from the pews by new ones, more 
accordant with the new doctrines intro- 
duced into the pulpits. The Catechism, 
which had been the cherished compen- 
dium of the fathers for a hundred and 
fif\y years, was dishonored and cast out 
by some of the children. Harvard Col- 
lege was beginning to move from its 
chartered foundation, Christ o et Ecclesia^ 
over to the quicksands of Unitarianism ; 
and other funded institutions, endowed 
for the inculcation of the gospel, were on 
the same sliding scale. One almost ex- 
claims, with John Harmann of Kbnigs- 
berg, ** O what a negative age is this I 
what hosts of negative men ! All are 
bent on taking away, none will give, — all 
seek to destroy, none to build up." Or 
with the pious Count Stallburg, who said, 
when writing to Jacobi for an instructor 
for his children, *' I will have no Neolo- 
gian, though he be as learned as Aristotle, 
and as wise and virtuous as Xenophon. 
On this subject I am an intolerant I do 
not care whether he is a Lutheran or a 
Calvinist, but he must be a true believer in 
the gospel, I would rather have an hon- 
est Atheist, if there be any, than such an' 
empty talker, made up of belief and unbe- 
lief, as most of our theologians now are." 
The theologians of this period in New 



114 



Leonard Woods. 



[AnjLf 



EngUiDdf on a closer inspection, resolve 
themselves into four pretty distinctly 
marked classes. A little attention to this 
aspect of the times, will disclose to us 
more fully the theological position and 
bearing of the Newbury pastor. The 
first class was composed of those who 
adhered to the Confesnon of Faith and 
the Assembly's Catechism, interpreted 
according to the historical sense of the 
language. Dr. Morse of Charlestown, 
^v. Mr. Dana of Ipswich, and the Phil- 
lipses, founders of the Academy and 
Theological Seminary, at Andover, be- 
longed to this class, and were called 
** Old Calvinists." The second class modi- 
ified the teachings of the Catechism, on a 
few points, by certain principles to which 
Dr. Hopkins' name gave repute, and they 
were called '* Hopkinsians " and " New 
Calvinists." Of this class were Dr. Spring 
of Newburyport, and Dr. Emmons, the 
sage of Franklin ; but the latter so 
diverged from the Newport divine, on 
some metaphysical points, as to be more 
justly styled an Emmonsite than a Hop- 
kinsian. The third class called them- 
selves moderate, or low Calvinists, though 
they were really Anninians in transitu 
from orthodoxy to Unitarianism. Some 
of them did not go quite so far as that, but 
they went out from the old theological 
homestead with their faces thitherward. 
They claimed to be sound and orthodox, 
and, according to their own standard, 
they were so. They lamented the ten- 
dency to extremes of unbelief in the peo- 
ple, and endeavored to check it — similia 
similibus curantur — by a moderate unbe- 
lief in the preachers. They held high 
views of liberality and charity ; but, as is 
usual with dissentients from old accredited 
doctrines, they regarded all as narrow 
and bigoted who did not walk in the 
same broad way with themselves, and 
their charity was but feebly exercised, 
except towards those transitionists, who 
were leaving the old faith, and the destruc- 
tionists, who were laboring to destroy it 
The history of a portion of this cUm 



exhibits distingnished specimens of that 
theological equestrianism, in which the 
rider endeavors to keep his seat firmly on 
two horses at the same time. The fourth 
class consisted of those who had reached 
the goal of pure truth, as they supposed, 
in Socinianism — a modem compound of 
old Pelagianism and Arianism — ^but who 
did not regard it wise to have their 
arrival publicly announced. But they 
held an accusative, and sometimes, like 
Esau to Isaac, a derisioe attitude in rela- 
tion to the old historical faith. Unita- 
rianism in New England existed occultly 
with considerable organic force, at least a 
score of years before it came to the birth ; 
and then, like Minerva from Jopiter^s 
brain, it leaped forth in full strength, 
and armed, on the first descent of the 
orthodox polemical cleaver. 

Mr. Woods' theological aflinities con- 
nected him with the first and second of 
these classes in those great fundamentals, 
in which they both agreed with the 
received standards of Calvinistic theology. 
He loved the leading men of both, and 
had confidence in them, but regretted 
their differences, as weakening the evan- 
gelical forces against the common anti- 
evangelical foe. Other good men regret- 
ted them also. Dr. Samuel Austin said, 
" Our present state of disunion and con- 
fusion is our reproach." 

By an arrangement of Providence, Bir. 
Woods was brought into close connection 
with two leading men — one in each of 
these branches of the evangelical family. 
With Dr. Spring, he was in local prox- 
imity as the minister of an adjoining par- 
ish ; and in his intelligence, purity of 
purpose, and nobleness of self-denying 
piety, he ever had the most entire confi- 
dence. Their ministerial exchanges were 
frequent for those times, and notwith- 
standing the disparity of age, Mr. Woods 
being twenty-eight years the younger, 
their Christian communion was peculiarly 
free and precious. They were agreed in 
the substance of doctrine, and the prin- 
ciples and spirit of the Chriitiaa Ufa. 



1859.] 



Leonard WooA. 115 



They were agreed in attempting to weed illostrating Mr. Woods' view of the spirit 
ont from the churches the evils which had with' which snch a work should be under- 
sprung up from the Half Way Covenant, taken, he wrote to Dr. Morse, ** To daj 
from the idea of encharistical regenera- Panoplist is bom, and I hope it will live to 
tion and ** nnregenerate doings." They grow up and be a good man, the friend of 
were agreed in an endeavor to raise knowledge and religion. I hope and 
strong breastworks against all invaders pray that there may not be a ^ice of ill 
of the common heritage ; and in these nature in it This does not belong to the 
harmonies lay their s^nnpathy and their Christian armor." It was by his able 
strength. When Mr. Woods read before articles in this Journal, in defence of the 
the Association, an able paper on the doctrines of the Catechism, that his char- 
Half Way Covenant, Dr. Spring die acter as a theological writer, became gen- 
next day wrote to him, **I take this erally known. 

opportunity to express my deepest grati- The relations into which Mr. Woods 

tnde for the wise and masterly manner in had been drawn to these two parties, by 

which your question was considered yesr solicitation as well as sympathy, show that 

terday before the Sanhedrim." It ** is for he had become a marked man, and was 

want of information that we see so many regarded by both as an acquintion. If 

new things." On the ground of these he received impressions from these stal- 

affinities, when, in 1803, the Massachu- wart divines, it is evident that he made 

setts Missionary Magazine was com- impressions alsa If they, from the mo- 

menced by the Hopkinsians, Dr. Spring mentum of accumulated moral force, were 

solicited and obtained the aid of Mr. commanding in their positions, he, from 

Woods' able pen. the same cause, was so in his. And if 

On the other hand, he was on terms of his views were not altogether agreeable 
equally sincere friendship and Christian to the men on one side, neither were all 
con6dcnce with Dr. Morse, of Charles- of their views agreeable to him. But it 
town, an old Calvinist, and somewhat a is due to them to say, that they never 
leader of the right wing of the Calvinistic assumed the air of dictators towards him, 
body. His mind had breadth and com- and equally due to him, to say, that on 
prehenaon from close observation and such lofty themes as man, God, and their 
travel, and solidity and Bnish from reflec- mutual relations, no words of dictation, 
tion and classical culture. He had just except such as the Holy Ghost teacheth, 
received the degree of Doctor of Divinity would have had any weight wiih him. 
from the University of Edinburgh. Being But other events were casting their 
one of the overseers of Harvard College, shadows before, which were to bring Mr. 
he took the lead in a manly and well Woods into still closer and more import- 
directed opposition to the tide that bore ant relations to these branches of the Cal- 
that institution over to Unitarianism. — vinistic family. Both were projecting 
When in 1805, Dr. Morse was projecting plans for a .theological Institution Both 
the Panoplist, as the organ of the Old had their minds on him as a suitable per- 
Calvini?ts for the deftfuce of the historical son for the chair of theology. Dr. Morse, 
faith of the New England Churches, the who was in council with the Phillipses 
pastor at Newbury was the man chosen and Mr. Abbotof Andover, had requested 
to be joint editor with him in conducting him to direct his studies with reference to 
it' On the issue of the first numbi'r. as a thtological professorship. And Dr. 

iTb« BUteroeot In Spniicue's Animii*, thnt Dr. Spring, a little later, when he had ma- 



Moi*« " was tiiie editor fur five yr-r-"," wm n H')« tured in part his plans, wished him to 

from M o« mm .ppr..h*..pioD In the mm-, m Is impled ^^^.^ ^ ^^ appointment to the same place 
to Urn Jounua by I l>e lerm «//!<««, frt^uwHy tm- » . » "^ . ' 

pk>3«d, uuduMiM e«ruuii from ou>»r eTioin t. « » bemmary dislincUvely ilopkmsian. 



m 



Leonard Woods. 



[Axm, 



So greatly desired the establishment of a 
theological Institution on the basis of 
aonnd Calvinistic, Christian doctrine. He 
approved of the general plan of Dr. 
.3prir.g, and so did he that of Dr. Morse 
and the Andover men. But he saw the 
endless evils that would grow out of two 
sach conflicting institutions. He felt al- 
most, that none would be better than 
two, and he laid his plans and directed 
all his efforts to effect a union. Informal 
conference between the two parties com- 
menced in the latter part of 1806. In 
January, 1807, Dr. Morse wrote to Dr. 
Woods, " Confer with Mr. Spring, and 
let me know whether he intends to unite 
with or oppose us, in this Institution." 
^e did thus confer, and urged a union. 
Be said, '* We wish to have all the Or- 
thodox influence in our State concen- 
trated in our theological institution. This 
is exceedingly desirable. If we can only 
get all the Calvin ists together, we need 
not fear." What was his plan of harmo- 
nization ? '^ The Hopkinsians," he said, 
** must come down, and the moderate men 
must come up till • they meet Then the 
host will be mighty." 

When in the spring of 1807, the New- 
buryport men decided on an institution 
at Newbury, and designated him as the 
teacher of theology, and when he knew 
that such an institution had been deter- 
mined on at Andover. so intent was he 
on a union, that he did not accept the 
appointment The next day, after the 
meeting in Dr. Spring's study, at which 
the Seminary in Newbury was concluded 
on, he went to Charlestown to confer with 
Dr. Morse respecting a union. The next 
day but one. Dr. Morse went to Andover 
to see Dr. Pearson, Mr. Farrar, and the 
Andover founders, and two days later, on 
Saturday, he went to Newbury for fur- 
ther consultation with Mr. Woods. The 
Monday following, Mr. Woods and Dr. 
Morse went to Newburyport, and called 
on Dr. Spring with distinct overtures for 
a union, and thus the negotiations were 
commenced. 



Dr. Spring ui^ged earnestly the impQrt> 
ance of his plan, not so much from a 
deare to inculcate the dbtinctive points 
of Hopkinsianism, as from a fear, that 
otherwise, the churches would swerve 
from the fundamental principles of Cal- 
vinism. On those principles he distrusted 
the soundness of the Andover men. 
When, however, as the negotiations went 
on, he found that they took the doctrines 
of the Gospel as expressed in the Cate- 
chism, for the basis of their Seminary; 
and that he would be allowed to make 
that creed more secure, if possible, by 
adding another to it; and that a Board 
of Visitors, representing both classes of 
founders, having visitorial power over the 
original Board, might be established ; and 
when further, he learned that Messrs. 
Bartlett and Brown, on whom he relied for 
his endowment, preferred union on what 
all regarded as essentials, to division on 
what a part esteemed errors ; and, finally, 
when he understood that they wanted 
hi^ man for the chair of theology, then his 
opposition ceased. In the candor of a 
Christian magnanimity, that loves funda- 
mental truth more than a party, — though 
all his party did not agree with him, and 
a few were hardly reconciled to him on 
account of it, he gave his voice unquali- 
fiedly for union. Ever afler he lent all 
his wisdom and energy to a measure, 
which, to the close of his life, commended 
itself more and more to his judgment and 
his aU'ections. 

The Seminary went into operation 
Sept 25th, 1808, and opened to Mr. 
Woods the scenes of his life-labor, — the 
construction of his system of theology. 
On this he entered with the greatest en- 
thusiasm. But beibre proceeding to this, 
and, as the means of a more just view of 
his theological position and his labors, we 
will advert to a question which has ol\cn 
been mooted, whether Dr. Wooils, at this 
time, was a Ilopkinsian in the distinctive 
sense, or simply a Calvinist 

The question is one of historic verity, 
and has no bearing, as here considered, 




Leonard Wooda. 



117 



on the theological toundnefls or unsound- 
neas of the different parties. Be it of 
greater or less importance, it must be de- 
cided b^ the testimony of facts. Whether 
Dr. Woods, or any other man is to be 
regarded as a Hopkinsian or otherwise, 
depends on the breadth of meaning al- 
lowed to the term. The Hopkinsians and 
Old Calvin ists held most of their articles 
of faith as common ground, — given in the 
Assembly's Catechism and Confession. The 
latter accepted these symbols in what they 
understood to be the intent of their fra- 
mers. The former diverged from them 
in some particulars which they held 
to be important, and made what they 
called ** improvements" in the form of 
•* logical inferences." These divergencies 
and inferences were the reputed peculiar- 
ities of Dr. Hopkinson, and what distin- 
guished his followers from the Old Cal- 
▼inists. It is due to the Hopkinsians, in 
lustorical fairness, to say, that they pre- 
sented the strong points of Calvinism 
which were held in conmion, with more 
earnestness and power than did many of 
the other party. In this respect, Dr. 
Woods resembled more the Hopkinsians 
than he did many of the Old Calvinists. 
On this account he was sometimes classed 
among them, and was here in full and 
cordial sympathy with them. Further, 
such unflinching defenders of the doc- 
trines of Calvin and the Catechism, as 
was Dr. Woods, were often reproached as 
Hopkinsians by those who bad discarded 
these doctrines, and who, for strategical 
parposes, called themselves *' moderate" 
or "judicious Calvini^ts." They objected 
scarcely more to the peculiarities of the 
Newport, than to the principles of the 
Genevan divine. But by this means, the 
odium theologicum which attached to the 
peculiarities of one party, was employed 
to bring into disrepute, principles held as 
fundamental by both parties. Thus the 
third class of those New England theolo. 
gians sought to damage both the Grst and 
second, in what was far dearer to the 
Hopkinsians than their peculiarities. 



These evils of divbion, Dr. Woods saw 
and deeply lamented. And in his incul- 
cation and defence of what he believed to 
be the faith once delivered to the saints, 
he was not careful about names. His 
heart and hand were with any man's who 
was honestly and wisely engaged in this 
noble work, though he might not, in all 
respects, be in perfect agreement with 
him. He was never a partisan. He had 
no love for controversy. In his disagree- 
ments with those holding the ground prin- 
ciples of the Christian faith, he alwajrs 
sought for conciliation as well as correction. 
Now, whether Dr. Woods, at this period, 
accepted the peculiarities of Dr. Hopkins 
or not, we may decide from the following 
facts. 

1. Dr. Woods' theological training was 
under Dr. Backus, who did not adopt the 
reputed improvements of Dr. Hopkins. 

2. The declaration of his belief, pre- 
sented to the Council at his ordination, 
though long and explicit, did not contain 
one of them. 

3. These peculiarities do not appear in 
any of his printed articles, nor in his man- 
uscript or published discourses • during 
this period. 

4. When the Panoplist was established 
as the organ of the Old Calvinists, the 
Hopkinsians showing it no favor — some 
saying, **it will die soon," and others, 
" let it live if it can " — Dr. Woods was 
selected by Dr. Morse as associate ediror, 
and his pen did as much to make it live 
as that of any other man, and to give it 
sweep and force of enginery in those bat- 
tles of truth against error, in which it was 
engaged. In a series of letters *\To a 
Brother," over the signature of " Con- 
stans," he enters into an elaborate defence 
of Calvinism, in which, after having un- 
folded the system, he passes the following 
encomium. 

" Such, my brother, is genuine Cal- 
vini>m. I glory in being its adherent 
and its conscientious advocate, not because 
I value it as the ensign of a party, but 
because, in my view, it contains the sub- 



118 



Zeanard Woods. 



[ApbiI) 



stance of sacred tnitb, and echoes tbe 
Toice of God. Such, as I have imper- 
fectly described it, is tbe character it has 
taught me to ascribe to the great Being 
of beings. How attractive, how vener- 
able, how glorious I . . . Love is the sum 
of Jeb?vah*8 excellence — the ornament, 
the crown, the glory of hb character." 

6. While he never publicly contro- 
verted the Hopkinsians, lest their minor 
divergencies should give advantage to 
those who were most zealously assailing 
what he held in common with the Hop- 
kinsians, yet the leading men in the party 
fully understood his position. Dr. Spring 
very well knew that his younger brother 
did not agree with him in those peculiari- 
ties. Dr. Emmons also knew that he did 
not, and many were the labored argumen- 
tations, in which they endeavored, without 
effect, to bring him to their views. He 
was simply a Calvinist, neither high nor 
low. Nor was he this because of any 
authority in the name of a man, but 
because, after careful examination, he 
regarded the Calvinian system, as given 
in the Assembly's Confession and Cate- 
chism, as the most legitimate teaching of 
the Scriptures. He believed it explained 
and harmonized the facts of history and 
of consciousness, more perfectly than any 
other. He took no human system, dec- 
laration, or symbol, as the warrant or 
ground for his faith. He considered 
these, so far as they were correct, as 
expositions and witnesses to the truth. 

The Letters to Unitarians, written in 
1820, indicate that he was not perfectly 
satisfied with tbe language of the Cate- 
chism, as best expressing the doctrine of 
Original Sin. 

At that time, he, with many others, 
understood this language as conveying 
the idea of a literal transfer of the guilt of 
Adam*s first sin, — his personal blame- 
worthiness, over to his posterity, as their 
own ; making original sin consist in this 
transferred blameworthiness. To this idra, 
he was, in every period of his life, steadily 
opposed. And his veneration for that 



admirable compend of Christian doctrine, 
while, for a time, he supposed its langoage 
naturally conveyed it, did not procure for 
it a moment's favor. It was, in his view, 
neither a Scriptural nor a Calvinian doD- 
trine. Calvin explicitly repudiates it, 
though it has nevertheless been often 
ascribed to him. ** No other explanation 
therefore can be given," he writes, ** of 
our being said to be dead in Adam, than 
that his transgressions not only procured 
misery and ruin for himself, but also pre- 
cipitated our nature into similar destruc- 
tion. And that, not hy his personal guilt 
as an individual, tohich pertains not to us, 
but because he infected all his descend" 
ants with the corruption into which he 
had fallen." > 

In the Unitarian controversy, as in his 
earlier and his later writings. Dr. Woods 
held steadfastly to the same Pauline view 
of Imputation and Original Sin — the view 
presented by Calvin, Stapfer, Yitringa, 
and the elder Edwards; — viz., that God 
gave to Adam a posterity like himself, 
whose nature is morally depraved, but 
who, as Calvin says, ** are rendered 
obnoxious to punishment by their own 
sinfulness, and not, as if they were inno- 
cent, by the sinfulness of another." ' To 
this conception of the subject, from the 
study of the Epistles and Gospels, he 
came quite early, and from it he never 
swerved. In that controversy, strong in- 
ducements were held out for him to take 
lower ground; and one distinguished 
theologian, among the evangelical church- 
es, took sides against him on this point, 
and with the Unitarians. Nevertheless, 
as he had held and defended it before his 
inauguration, as the ground principle of 
Orthodoxy, so he steadily maintained it 
through the Unitarian controversy. So 
he did also in the part which he took in 
what is called the Connecticut contro- 
versy. And so it stands in the revision 
of his Works, which received the finish- 
ing strokes of his mature pen. The para- 



1 In«Utur«#, Book li., chap. 1., Me. rl. 
i IiuUttttM, Book U., eh»p. 1., mt, tIU. 



1859.] 



Leomrd Woods. 



119 



graph to which we hare referred, in the 
'* Letters to Unitarians," was omitted in 
the Works, not from anj change in " the 
orthodoxy which he defended in his con- 
troversy with Ware," because there was 
no such change ; but for reasons which 
are fully and frankly stated in a note 
where the omission occurs ; a change of 
view in respect simply to the meaning of 
a word. '* AVhen I wrote those * Letters 
to Unitarians,' I had a different opinion 
from that which I now entertain respect- 
ing the meaning of the word imputation 
or impute. In conformity with many 
excellent ministers of the gospel in New 
England, I had been accustomed to give 
the word a signification widely dlfierent 
fitun what it bears in the Scriptures, and 
in the writings of standard Calvinistic 
divines generally. The word, as I now 
understand it, is properly used to express 
the effects of Adam's sin upon his pos- 
terity, and of the righteousness of Christ 
upon believers. ... I consider the word 
as denoting the very doctrine which is 
repeatedly and very plainly expressed in 
Bom. 5 : 12-19. It will be seen that the 
change, in my opinion, respects merely 
the proper signification of the word. To 
adapt Letter VI. to my present views, I 
omit most of two paragraphs.^ 

In respect to the construction of Dr. 
Woods' Theological System, its analysis 
would give the most life-like view of it, 
and show it to have proceeded objectively 
with reference to antagonistic errors, and 
systems of errors, and subjectively from 
the point of Christian experience. The 
slightly polemical aspect which it bears, is 
a logical necessity in any scientific and 
defensive systematization of Christian 
doctrine. Besides, by the Constitution of 
the Seminary, every person elected a 
Professor is required not only to make 
and subscribe a declaration of his faith in 
the distinguishing doctrines of the gospel, 
as expressed in the Assembly's Shorter 
Catechism, but solemnly to engage to 
teach these doctrines " in opposition not 

1 Wockt^ToL !▼., p. 8A. 



only to Atheists and Infidels, but to Jews, 
Mahommedans, Arians, Pelagians, Anti- 
nomians, Arminians, Socinians, Unita- 
rians and Universalists, and to all other 
heresies and errors, ancient or modem, 
which may be opposed to the gospel of 
Christ, or hazardous to the souls of men.* 
Dr. Woods, in this work, made much 
use of a few principles which he regarded 
as axioms. 

1. God's actions are infallible expo- 
nents of his purposes. 

2. All questions which admit of it| 
should be settled in the light of facts. 
This gave as his method, the Baconian 
or Inductive Philosophy, which he held 
to be as necessary in mental and moral, 
as in natural science. It saved him from 
empiricism and the mazes of useless and 
wasteful speculation outside the limits of 
human knowledge. 

3. A proposition, which is proved by 
good and sufficient evidence, cannot be 
held as doubtful, because of certain diffi- 
culties which may be connected with it 
The difficulties arise ont of the abyss of 
the unknown, but the proofs from what 
is well known. 

4. Revelation and right Reason are al- 
ways harmonious, and progress in theo- 
logical science consists in the processes 
for rectifying the latter, through the illu- 
minations of the former. 

His starting point was Theopneustia, 
Against Atheists. Pantheists, Deists, and 
all philosophic Rationalists, he taught that 
the Bible, not merely contains, but is a 
revelation from God, to all who reafl it, 
as well as to the writers ; — that it is a 
perfect rule of faith, and, as to authority, 
a finality in all matters on which it 
speaks. It is a divine organism, a theop- 
neustic instrument in the execution of 
God*s purpose of redeeming love. In its 
production, the divine and human agen- 
cies were so conjoined, that the writers 
were free, though not fallible. It is theop- 
neustic in every part, God being the mov- 
ing agent, and in form and style, anthro- 

i OoBsUttttloB.ud StakalM, Art. sil., p. 0. 



120 



Leonard Woods. 



[ApiML, 



pneustic in every part, man being tbe sub- 
ordinate agent. It is infallible in its state- 
ment of the facts of history and of science, 
as in its enunciation of the moral doctrines 
of creation providence and redemption, 
^hicb rest for support on those facts. 
The inspiration covers the whole sub- 
stance or contents of Scripture, and is 
consequently plenary. It extends to the 
external form or language, and is there- 
fore verbal, — God teaching not merely 
what to write, but how to write it ** The 
books are therefore both human and di- 
vine." * 

In his doctrine of man, or Anthropology^ 
against all theories of emanation, efflux 
6f divine substance, or development, he 
taught man's creation by the direct act of 
bis Maker; — that he was created in a 
state of ph3rsica], mental, and moral per- 
fection, and in the likeness of God as to 
lus rational and immortal being ; — that he 
Was mutable as to his moral nature, and 
that in the use of his free will, by trans- 
gression, be fell from his primitive holi- 
ness, by a change of his affections or 
disposition. By divine constitution, the 
first man was the federal or moral, not 
less than the natural head of the race. 
On account of this unity of the human 
family, his posterity partake of his fallen 
nature. This passing over of the effects 
of Adam's transgression, to his posterity, 
is the imputation of his sin. 

Dr. Woods taught the free moral agency 
of man as a fact of consciousness ; — 
moral, from its relation to the moral law, 
and to moral causes or motives; — free 
fh>m coercion, but not from native sinful 
bias, nor from the influence of motives, 
subjective and objective, nor free from 
the law of choice according to the strong- 
est motive ; nor free either, in the sense 
of an equilibrium between good and evil, 
or of a self-determining power of the will, 
or of the power of a contrary choice, but 
free to act as he chooses, and to choose as 
he pleases. He held to natural ability 
in the sense of those faculties or powers, 

1 Worki; ToL 1- pp. 9$-198. 



and external opportunities which consti- 
tute responsibility, but denied it in the 
sense of a power adequate to the right 
use of these faculties, in the removal of 
that native sinful indisposition to obe- 
dience, which constitutes man's moral ina- 
bility. For this, no power is adequate but 
that of the Holy Spirit The exercise of 
that power to this end, is the change of 
man's moral disposition, — the conunence- 
ment of the new life of faith and love, 
which is called regeneration. This gives 
man's responsibility and dependence, and 
calls him both to prayer and to action.' 

In the department of Theology^ specifi- 
cally considered, Dr. Woods established 
the divine Existence, Unity, and essential 
Personality, respectively against Atheists, 
Polytheists and Pantheists. And in op- 
position to all forms of Sabellianism, 
Arianism and Socinianism, he hud out in 
a manner not exceeded in any language, 
the solid, immovable proofi of the Trinity 
immanent in the divine Unity, and de- 
fended it against the charge of Tritheism, 
and of arithmetical absurdity. 

In respect to the moral goverment of 
God, he taught that it is perfect and needs 
no amendment. The problem of moral 
evil can be satisfactorily solved only on 
this hypothesis, which renders evil triba- 
tary to the best and highest ends of the 
moral Governor. Its introduction by the 
creature's evil agency, which makes it 
anti-theistic in its nature, was neither an 
event which he could not have prevented, 
had he seen it best, nor was its permission 
a mistake, which more wisdom would have 
enabled him to avoid, but a part of that 
eternal and wise plan, chosen by infinite 
love and executed by infinite power, which 

" Oat of eril, still edoera good, 
And better, thence afain and Iwttsr itill 
In infinite progreulon." 

Every other theory he regarded at 
without Scriptural basis, and an impeach- 
ment of the divine wisdom in not devis- 
ing the best system, or the divine benevo- 
lence in not choosing it* 

« Works, Vol. II. p. 696. Vol. III. pp. 1-8U 
• Works, Tol. I. pp. lM-381. Tol. T. pp. 849-460. 



1889.] 



Leonard Woodi. 121 



In Soteroloffy, or the doctrine of the is the application of the atonement, or the 
Saviour, as it lies in his theology, there actual salvation of those who believe, — 
is nothing ambiguous or obscure. The the one being provisional and unlimited, 
real^ Incarnation of Grod in Christ, — the other being actual and limited by 
the union of a true, human body and a election and regeneration. ^ 
reasonable soul, with the divine Logos, or In reducing these, and other great and 
eternal Son, in one redempdve person, is correlated truths of revelation to system- 
unfolded against the Docetse, who held atic form. Dr. Woods, as other writers 
only a phantom body, and the Apollina- have done, made the detection of error 
rians and Swedenborgians, who deny to more sure, and the defence of the Chrift- 
Christ a human soul, — also against the tian doctrines more easy. These truths 
Monophysites, who believe in only one in their logical order, are more readily 
natore, in one person, — and the Nestori- seen to be homogeneous and proportionaL 
ana who hold the two natures in two By their integration, each part of the 
persons. The whole work of Christ was system lends support to every other part, 
mediatorial, in the prophetical, priestly, and thus the whole is made firm. Hence 
and kingly offices. The two natures were the objections to systematic theology arise 
joined but not confounded, or so merged, mainly from errorists, or those inclininj^ 
as that the finite-human partook of the to error. 

pxoperties of the Infinite-Divine or the Dr. Woods did not claim to be original, 
Divine-Infinite the natural properties of though no one can read his theology, 
the finite-human, but were distinct, yet without perceiving its strongly marked 
united in one person, constituting thus individuality. It is his system, and could 
the condition of effective mediation in the be that of no other man. But, in doc- 
work of redemption. Christ's perfect trine, he originated nothing. Edwards 
obedience to the preceptive law, was a and John Calvin held the same. Nor 
qualifying condition of that vicarious suf- were these doctrines first taught by the 
fering of the penalty of the law, which Genevan divine. Bernard found them 
constituted the essence of the atonement in Augustine, and Augustine in Cyprian, 
The suffering was penal, not from desert and Cyprian in Tertullian, and all these 
in the sufferer, but by voluntary substitu- found them in the canonical Gospels and 
tion. It was not the identical penalty Epistles, to which they were referred for 
due to the guilty, but an equivalent, as- authority. This indicates that Dr. Woods' 
snmed in their behalf, answering all the Theology possesses a derivative as weU 
ends of law and justice, besides other as individual character, and discloses its 
ends of love and mercy in their salvation, theological pedigree. Every system and 
The gracious effects of this substitutionary every doctrine has its genealogy by which 
obedience and death in the justification it can be traced in history, to its progen- 
or pardon of believers, is what he meant itor. If it be true, the line will lead up 
by the imputation of Christ's righteous- to the prophets and apostles, and to Jesus 
ness. This was through faith alone, be- as the head; if otherwise, to Sabellius, 
cause the meritorious ground of forgive- Arius, Pelagius, Socinus, or the father of 
ness is in what Christ does, and not in the gome other family of dull or dazzling 
&ith of the believer, or any thing that he originators. 

does. Yet justifying faith is not alone ; — The style of Dr. Woods was happily 

its vital working force is love, — the root adapted to the construction of such a sys- 

of all really good works. tem. It is rigidly Anglo-Saxon, and of 

The Atonement is a provision of salva- Doric simplicity. It b free from foreign 

lion, and as such is co-extensive in its words and idioms, and from startling cata- 

nifficiency, with human sin. Redemption i Woriu, Yoi. n. pp. 480-^. ~ 

YOL. I. 16 



122 



Leofmrd Woods. 



[Apbil, 



racts and chasmu. His precision in the 
definition of terms and the clearness of 
his statements, let his readers fairly into 
the subject before he comes to its treat- 
ment With a little dififuseness; he b yet 
80 transparent that they not only look 
into, but quite through it This crystal 
clearness of style has led certain super- 
ficial thinkers to regard him as a superficial 
writer, in comparison with others, whose 
turbid style rather entombs than lays 
open the subject Said one of the most 
learned Christian naturalists of our time, 
on laying down an article from his pen, 
**I love to read any thing that comes 
firom Dr. Woods, it is so much like 
quartz^ an illustration none the less just 
and beautiful, for being borrowed from 
its author*s favorite science. 

The habits and qualities of Dr. Woods' 
mind fitted him peculiarly for the great 
work to which he was called. His mental 
discipline was the result of patient, per- 
severing, and systematic efibrt, and his 
attainments were made, not by the eccen- 
tric sallies of genius, but by steadily press- 
ing his inquiries farther and farther into 
the domain of science. The structure of 
his mind, thus built up, was solid rather 
than showy, and its beauty was the result 
of the just balance of its powers, as its 
force was of the wise direction and unity 
of his efforts. 

He had a fondness for metaphysical 
studies; and qualifications, natural and 
acquired, for distinguished success in 
them. His clear perceptions and power 
of discrimination ; his ability to discover 
the causes and relations of things ; to meet 
and surmount difficulties ; to trace anal- 
ogies, weigh arguments and establish the 
value of lo^cal results, gave him peculiar 
advantages in mental and moral science. 
With about the same ease he could work 
in the mines, or the mint of truth, bring 
up pearls from the deep, or polish them 
for use. While he highly honored human 
reason, he held with Pascal that its last 
step dimly discloses the existence of in- 
nnmerable things, which transcend its 



powers, either of comprehension or of full 
discovery. He rejoiced in whatever re- 
search extended the boundaries of science ; 
but he also felt that many had made ship- 
wreck of faith by self-confident adventures 
on the sea of speculation, beyond the 
soundings of j^ason, and the chart and 
compass of Revelation. 

Everywhere cautious, he was especially 
so in settling first principles ; for, if these 
were false, he knew that they would 
necessitate wrong conclusions. Facts, 
among which he gave the highest place 
to those of Revelation, were the starting 
point in his philosophy. From these, by 
a careful induction, he came to general 
laws. From laws he was led to a law- 
giver, and from the law-giver to a univer- 
sal government 

These mental qualities were happily 
illustrated in Dr. Woods' methods of in- 
struction. He administered no stimulants 
but what the love of truth and the delight 
of increasing knowledge would furnish. 
He led his pupils, step by step, from what 
is simple and easy, to what is complex 
and difficult If they were inclined to 
rest on a false and dangerous principle, 
he employed the magnet of the Socratic 
method to draw them from it to a safe 
one. When they lost themselves in the 
labyrinths of metaphysical speculation, he 
would go in afler them, and patiently 
guide them out into some fruitful field of 
religious knowledge. The love and ven- 
eration with which he inspired his pupils 
is very warmly expressed by one, who, 
for nearly a quarter of a century, has 
been diflfusing the light of the gospel 
amidst the darkness and desolations of 
heathenism : 

'' I am not given to strong professions, 
in the line of paying homage to fellow 
mortals. But I can honestly say, that I 
think I never was in so much danger of 
something approaching idolatry, in regard 
to the character and teachings of any 
man, as in regard to Dr. Woods. To 
call him a model and a nuister^ as a theo- 
logical teacher, is but a very moderate 



1859.] 



Leonard Woods. 123 



compliment to one, who, in mj estima- His^liberty of choice was sacredlj pre- 

tion, had no compeers, and will not soon served from infringement bj that very 

be likelj to have them. influence which led him to choose what 

I was so eager to treasure up every he had before always refused. The firee- 

word of his lectures, when a student at dom of his moral agency was enlarged by 

Andover, that my notes of them were that power which supematurally changed 

almost ludicrously minute and voluminous, the character of the moral agent This 

And I distinctly recollect that, on once was certified to him by his consciousness, 

returning them to me, after he had been Could we follow him interiorly in the 

inspecting them, as he was then wont to constructive process, we should see the 

do the notes of all his pupils, he playfully great Builder showing him the patterns 

said to me ; * If my house takes fire, and of things as he did Moses in the Mount, 

I lose my lectures, I shall know where to teaching him experimentally the appe- 

look for them.' tencies and potencies and relations of 

I ever had a profound impression of his the parts, the key-stone and the comer- 
deep and earnest piety; his eminently stone, the pillars and the pilasters, the 
benevolent heart ; his honest, candid and lacings and the bracings, and all rising in 
most amiable character, and the wonder- symmetry and beauty from the deep and 
fbl clearness of his intellect." broad " foundation." 

Admirable as is Dr. Woods' system of It is thb experimental element in Dr. 
theology, when objectively viewed, in its Woods' theology which makes it so much 
natural order and logical harmony ; its a living system, and gives it growing har- 
adjustment to opposing errors; its com- mony with the human consciousness, as 
prehensiveness, unity and symmetry ; its that consciousness becomes more and more 
thorough Biblical character, and its truth- Christian. It finds, as Neander sa3rs of 
evincing transparency ; yet it is its sub- Augustine's theology, " a ready point of 
jective element that marks what is per- union in the whole life and experience of 
haps most peculiar. The portrayal of the Church, as expressed in its prayers 
those life-principles and forces; those and liturgical forms." It has already 
interior struggles and strivings after the been incorporated into nascent systems 
knowledge of the will of God; those of theology that are working out such 
aspirations of the human spirit, and eleva- benign results in the heart of heathen- 
tions of it through the divine, of which ism. The notes of Dr. Woods' lectures, 
this work was the out-birth, would disclose taken by the pioneer of American Mis- 
the simple but profound philosophy of a sionaries in Persia, had their place in the 
human spirit, working out forms of truth preparation of the lamented Stoddard's 
and beauty which the Holy Spirit works theological lectures for the students of the 
within it Could we take our point of Missionary Seminary at Oroomiah, even 
observation within the enclosures of his before the published works were sent to 
inner being, and mark the first move- the Mission. ** And thus," says Dr. Fer- 
ments of his mind God- ward, not from an kins, " the revered and beloved Andover 
emanative, regenerating ray of the uni- professor helped to train many a young 
versal divine substance, as the Pantheists Nestorian theologian." 
teach; not either from a mere, self-willing. This life-labor is a better biography oi 
human impulsion, as the Pelagians hold ; him than can be produced by any human 
but by the direct, personal agency of the pen. It is a more enduring monument 
Divine Spirit, we should see him solving than the sculptor*s chisel can shape, and 
the great problem of man's freedom and will stand when the marble has decayed. 
God's sovereignty, and thus coming to And though imperfections pertain to 
one fundamental principle of his theology, everything of human endeavor, yet, while 



12% American EccTmadical Demmmations. [^/b^'^ity 

he rests fhmi his labors, his works^will tions and will, into harmony wift vmr 
follow him through coming generations of heavenward tendencies, that a few dajs 
regenerate men. Their believing minds before his death,^ when, standing on 
will be fed by his clear words of truth, the confines of time, and looking on 
Their loving hearts will throb in quicker them in that light which beams from 
response to the Savior's call, for the fuller the eternal throne through the opening 
ingress into that mystery of divine love gates of glory, — " No change," he faintly 
unfolded in those words. exclaims, " no change," yet after a mo- 
Holding its cardinal principles from the menf s pause, — ' fanned by some guardian 
double testimony of his deepest conscious- angel's wing,' — " Yes," he says, " there is 
ness and the divine word, the hypothesis n change. Those truths appear to me 
of their fidsity, in his view, belied Grod, as more truthful, more weighty, more precious 
he has revealed himself in his word, and than ever." 

in the hearts of believers. This made his i After retiring from hi. PtofeiMnfaip of thirty, 

system a living organism — a growth from «igfat years, in 1846, Dr. woods was tngiged ftnr wsw- 

the vital forces, at the center of his being. «»^ y«»» *° preparing tat tho press his T hooiogiDa l 

43^ ^j.* 1 i.jt.' r- 'tx. * ai.* J* • Leotmes, and a portion of his mbeeHaBeom wiiUius, 

So entirely had his faith in this dinne ^h,^p^SZitoiw»«di8eo. a-u-TS 

truth subdued his whole intellect, affec- Andonr, Aug. M, 1861 



AMERICAN ECCLESIASTICAL DENOMINATIONS. 

COXPILBD BT BET. A. H. aUIKT. 

» « 

The only reliable and comprehensive statistics of American Denominations are 
found in the following meagre, but valuable table, obtained "by the census of 1850 :* 

i\.n«M»t«.fk».. No. of Aggregate Ac- "J^TliS? Total Value of »T^^ 

Denominations. churches. comi^ations. ^^- Church Property. SJjJ^. 

Baptist, 8,791 3,130,878 356 $10,931,382 $1,244 

Christian, 812 296,050 365 845,810 1,041 

Congregational 1,674 795,177 475 7,973,962 4,768 

Dutch Reformed, .... 324 181,986 561 4,096,730 12,644 

Episcopal 1,422 625,213 440 11,261,970 7,919 

Free, 361 108,605 300 252,255 698 

Friends, 714 282,823 396. 1,709,867 2,395 

^German Reformed,.. 327 156,932 479 965,880 2.953 

Jewish, 31 16,575 534 371,600 11,987 

^Lutheran 1,203 531,100 441 2,867,886 2,383 

Hennonite, 110 29,900 272 94,245 856 

Methodist, 12,467 4,209,333 337 14,636,671 1,174 

Moravian, 331 112,185 338 443,347 1,339 

Presbyterian, 4,584 2,040,316 445 14,369,889 3,135 

Roman Catholic, .... 1,112 620,950 558 8,973,838 8,069 

Swedenborgian, 15 5,070 338 108,100 7,206 

Tunker, 52 35,075 674 46,025 885 

Union, 619 218,552 345 690,065 1,114 

Unitarian, 248 137,367 565 3,268,122 13,449 

UniversaUst, 494 205,462 415 1,767,015 3,576 

MinorSecU, 325 115,347 354 741,980 2,283 

Total, 36,011 13,849,896 384 $86,416,639 $2,400 

*The QerxDaa Beibrmed and Lutheran denominattons ose the same building in many plaesa. 



1^ 



M^^tmi tleiMtaOiciA DeMmkaHm. 



m 



Hie l^iiBtutiiis of {be yariiyas denblni- 
nadons in the United States are not pre- 
sented in iQch a shape as to afford the 
possibility oTcoiTect aggregates. In fact, 
the reports of the Methodists are the only 
ones which are complete, and these only 
in the two branches whose peculiar polity 
enables them to enforce their rules re- 
garding the statistics of the few points 
winch they require. The tables which 
follow, are to be regarded as scattered 
fiKts which may be useful for occasional 
reference, — reserving for another number 
sach reports, omitted in this, as it will be 
possible to furnish. And in these, an 
implicit faith is by no means praiseworthy. 
Hie Statistics of no denomination are 
what they ought to be. The exposition 
of the character of our own, as presented 
in our last number, may be applied, with 
the requisite change of names, to every 
other, with perfect safety. If complete 
reports are presented, they are prudently 
limited to few items. If tables which shall 
comprehend all reasonable requests are 
appended, the blanks instantly appear. 
Bat here are the figures. 



The arrangement of the Classes of 
the Reformed Protestant Dutch 
CRXtBCH in disregard of State limits, ren- 
ders the Summary all that we need to 
copy. It is, for the last year, as follows : 

CUsses, 30 

Churches, 393 

Ministers, 389 

Cmndidates, 3 

Students, 42 

Number of families, 32 J42 

Total of the Congregations, 132,236 
Hceeiveu,^"- 

On Confession, 4,099 

On Certificate, 1,788 6,887 

Total of Communicants, 46,197 
Baptisms, — Infants, 3,472 

" * Adults, 847 4,319 

Catechumens, 14,959 

No. in Biblical Instruction, 8,834 

No. of Sabbath Schools, 661 

" " " Scholars, 23,269 
Contributions, — 

Benevolent purposes, $99,199 

Congregational « 272,986— ^|372,186 



The Statistics of the ttsTHODlsTB are 
published by the different bodies which 
possess the name, and seem fulL But 
the Conferences being made up with an 
entire disregard of State lines, it is useless 
to copy anything more than the totals. 

The summary of the Methodist Epis- 
COPAL Church (North,) a^r deduct- 
ing the churches in Liberia and Germar 
ny, is as follows : 

Conferences, 47 

TrsTelling Preachers,— 

Superannuated, 562 

Supernumerary, 239 

EffectiTe, 6,681 6,472 

Local Preachers, 7»603 

Church Edifices, 9,061i 

Numbers in Society,— 

Members, 766,004 

Probationers, 187,914 963,918 

Net increase, 136,617 

Deaths, 9,197 

Baptisms, — 

Adults, 40,916 

Infants, 37,368 68,288 

Of the Statistics of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church South, for the 
year past, we have been unable, after a 
faithful search in Boston and New York, 
to find a single copy. As the next best 
thing we present the figures of the pre- 
ceding issue, with the single remark that 
they are undoubtedly too low for the 
present facts : 

Conferences, 28 

Bishops, 6 

Travelling Preachers,— 
Superannuated, 163 

Effective, 2171 2,334 

Local Preachers, 4,660 

Members,— 

White Members, 399,382 
'< Probationers, 60,779—4^,161 
Colored Members, 146,634 
** Probationers, 26,43^—173,067 
Indian Members, 3,190 

*< Probationers, 296 3,486—636,714 

Total Ministers and Members, 643,714 

In our next issue, we propose to insert, 
if attainable, the last summary, — and also 
reports of the various smaller Methodist 
bodies. 



126 Ameriean JEeclewutical Denonmiaimi. [Araxi^ 

The Statistics of the ** Rxgulab " Baptists we oopj from the American Baptist 
Almanac, for 1859, as follows : 

AMOoift- OrdaiiMd B«ptiMd Tbtel 

StatM and Tenitorlet. tfom. Ohonbtt. Mlnlttan. Li«Mti«ltf. la 1867. ITvnbcr. 

AUbsma, .^ 27 709 862 68 8,917 82,696 

Arkannt, 16 266 117 6 971 8,704 

CaUfornia, 1 19 14 2 62 982 

Connectieut, 7 118 114 18 698 16,808 

Delaware, 2 8 •••• 6 879 

District of Columbia, 4 7 6 100 980 

Florida, 8 100 46 20 818 4,896 

Georgia, 37 906 688 168 6,016 72,160 

Ulinois, 34 602 418 64 2,482 81,448 

Indiana 47 606 290 44 2,182 29,766 

Indian Territory, 4 40 38 .... 801 4,060 

Iowa, 10 167 124 26 718 7,661 

Kentucky, ^44 897 896 40 6,118 78,972 

Louisiana 9 176 86 6 878 8,766 

Maine, 13 276 186 12 767 18,680 

Maryland, 1 82 24 7 699 3,884 

Massachusetts, 14 267 267 18 1,746 83,205 

Michigan 11 186 126 11 602 9,924 

MinnesoU, 2 31 28 2 60 818 

Mississippi 21 661 269 88 2,614 86,128 

Missouri, 32 609 369 49 2,897 87,076 

New Hampshire, 7 91 79 7 262 7,777 

New Jersey, 4 114 116 18 846 14,846 

New York 43 812 738 90 4,826 84,266 

North Carolina, 27 646 848 71 4,244 62,276 

Ohio, 29 474 314 39 1,928 27,889 

Oregon, 2 27 16 6 116 877 

PennsyWania, 16 369 269 66 2,093 83,763 

Rhode Island 2 60 66 7 290 7,682 

South CaroUna, 17 461 267 23 4,776 64,278 

Tennessee, 26 666 381 66 3,124 60,639 

Texas 16 321 161 18 1,463 12,822 

Vermont 7 106 89 8 267 7,481 

Virginia, 26 704 360 43 6,792 102,667 

Wisconsin 7 163 86 .... 421 6,379 

German and Dutch, 1 40 30 11 263 2,000 

Swedish, 18 7 •••• 130 400 

Welsh, 3 84 20 .... 240 1,800 

Toul in the United States, 666 11,600 7,141 1,026 63,606 923,198 

British ProTinces, 13 360 212 .... 1,700 29,200 

West India Islands 4 110 126 38 1,800 36,260 

Total in North America,.... 682 12,060 7,478 1,063 67,006 988,648 

The following Denominations, who practise immersion, are enumerated as follows : 

Anti-Mission Baptists, 166 1,720 826 ... 1,600 68,000 

Six-Principle Baptists, 18 16 ... .... * 3,000 

Seyenth-Day Baptists, 67 70 17 .... 7,260 

Church of God, 276 132 ... .... 13,800 

i,Disciples, 2,000 2,000 ... .... 360,000 

Tunkers, 160 200 ... .... 8,200 

Mennonitei, 300 260 ... .... 36,280 

1 u This wt rsgard as a rwy high wthnate, but the flgoras wsrs ths rssolt of la^iulry at out of the 
ssieftd anditUable BiinliUis of ths dsmwntnsttMi te wMsb tbsy P"^> »»<■ 



1869.] 



Jmmean Eeektiagtictti Dmonmatiottt. 



127 



The Fkbe Will Baptibth report, 
(according to the " Free Will Bapliit 
Be^Mer " for 1859,) w follows : 

Yntlr Hcctingi, f e^aiT&lnit to onr 

Ocncnl AMOciatioDi,) 39 

QnarterlT Hectiiig*, (eqnifilBnt to 

aai LomI Con/arencM,) 133 

ChoTchn, 1200 

Ordtined Pmtchen, 665 

LicwMcil " I6S 

CommuDJeaiiti, Gt,026 

Sliowiog a net increaee, in one jnr, of 
M chnrcbeo, Si orduned preschen, it 
licentiates, and 5,714 commnuicMita. 

'ile pRUBYTBRIAIf StttilticS, K) fu 

■■ the two nuun bodie* ue concerned, «re 
uamij obtained, — the Old School pabli- 
catioD being altogether the most raluable 
docmnent These report as f<^wB, — es- 
clnding from the New School branch the 
toai (oDt of ax seceding) Sjmods which 
are now organized independently. 
ConlrOtulionf : >"" Old 



Sfuada, 

PmbTterin, 

Hibiiten, 

UcmtiRtei, 

Ueeniurei, 

CandidatM, 

Ordinationi, 

Iiwtallationi, 

Ptitonl lelationi 

Hiuiitm rae'd from 
othar danam'DI. 

Hialaten dit'd to 
other denam'na, 



91,886.166 



BMrida and Ch. 

UiaccllaiieDuV '.'"..'..'. 

Qnieral Aiiembljr, MJSIM 
Domastic HtMuina, 8S.i39.22 

Fonitrn Hiitiont, SI.SSe.TO 

Education, fi5,6fil.87 

PobUeatioQ, G0,M2.a2 



9273.971.90 sa36,75e 



CburchM, 3,334 1,489 

ChuTchca OTganiied, 109 •••■ 

" diiaolTid, 46 

other denom'ni, 9 .... 

Added on eiam'n, 30,792 9,138 

" on eeitiflcata, 10,Sfi8 fi.Sll 

CommunicanU, 3fi9,33fi 130.691 

Adulli tupliied, fi,170 3,81fi 

Infanta " 13,934 3,788 

In additioD to the two General AMem- 
bliea we God the following distinct bodies 
of Freabfterians, with nnmbers as follows, 
which we compile from a very valuable 
work entitled " The Presbyterian Histor- 
ical Almanac," for 18S9 : 





{ 




i 


I 


I 


^ 


i= 


Ij 


h 
IS 


it 
'1 




4 


1^ 












































































'••"SA^.. ' 


IB 




M 


B 






IM 










an 


b,m 


n 


<a 












































































fafonDtd Prw Sjood, 




























61 Mi t 




1 1 



lOalUdl 

The returns are » defective as not to 
be worth adding up ; thui of the 89 Pres- 
byteries of the Cumberland body, 81 
■ttke no report; of the 118 churchesof 
Iha United Synod, 63 make no report; 
iriula the lower lines of the above table 



Tlie Statinicsof the Pbotbbtant Epib- 
ootAL CxDftOH we take from the Chunh 



id PmlvuiUD Chocch g( North Amnio*." 

Almanac for 18^9, which coutuns a laige 
amount of facts. It says i " The paro- 
chial statistics are necessarily imperfect, 
inasmuch aa in all the dioceses except 
four, a number of Parishes (in all abont 
300) have made no reporta. Hany of 
tbe reports, too, are very imperfect. The 
actual Btatiftica are, therefore gi«ater dian 
Ihoae hen giTan." 



128 



Ammean Eet^eamiieal Demm^M^ota. [ An^ 



ai 


pnquinoo ; 




sssssssissassssssssssasas 

3SSS33S"5S22a"S"'*2S2S2SS-'"'-'" 


1 


■■Jilonjg - 


ss|||p|||||i|ii|giiPiiiSsiSaS 


1 


■tI*llM3X ? 


sssS|sppii-gis|ssi|s3s5Sgsass 


■»l»iJnH I 


'SSai|gSpiSgSIISSSiH|3i=B|sssa 


•M8.iu.K ^ 


-SSSS2|2Sas||gSgE;SSS^2S5S3Sg5Sgg 


■h 


WiW^ ' 


SsiiiiiPiiiiiiiiiiiiPiiPiSS 


i' 


■psppv ; 


"mm mi'iUHM^iiS'i^nm's s 


■psmignoo % 


S-sESaiPiapiSSSSSSEislsSSSsSsSs 


, 


■fwi, q 


S3sS|||3P|Sipi=gipSISBill85S 


-MinpV ? 


5g|2gg5gS53SS|gSSE;?ffggSS5SSS5 S 




■tmnjui i 




iiSpiSasisss3SSg-S g 




SSpllllgE 


-uo 


pai.iaag = 




„, 


■UJP40 


=— -ssass— -s— =»"— »»==.»—•.« 


if 


■siaaiJJ '^ 


o = ™-»s»» — „.»K=. — = = — -. , = = — 


li 


■st.03.sa - 


-on«oi3t-i-mr.<DiD«-nrH-m-»M-no*-i ms=- 


■HqtUTd - 




■MJ310 ^ 


ssra8gsgaE«s55sasaaB!sss~aaa28s="-"- 




s 




1 


mii: 


iinlllilllHll 

fliiil 



We take the totals of the BboTe from -Cjndidi 
the Mine aoarce, although, io some in- 
Btances. they do uot correspoml with the 
TeBults of ooT addition. 



ChuTchea Conisciattd, . . 



Dioc 



Prieiti ind Deacon 1.979 Mi 

Whole nurobar of ClergT 2,016 BuriiU. 

Fariahei ' ~" =— .--- 

Ordination*— Daaeona, 

" Prirat*, 6B Co&bctbutlDna,. 



Adult* 6,007 

Not alated 661 

Total, S2.23* 

Conflnnation* lT,fiU 

31 Communicanta— added,.. 



PrMcnt number 127,9S3 

6,77* 

W.48I 

Bundav School Teaeheia, 13,M3 

Sdholu* 109,561 

tuauCwH 



18&9.] 



Did the PUgrims wrong the Indiana t 



129 



DID THE PILGRIMS WRONG THE INDIANS ? 



BT REV. 7. t. CLASS, D.D. 



Oliver Goldsmith has shown how 
well he understood human nature, by re- 
presenting the Vicar of Wakefield as get- 
ting out of humor with his own horse, 
while listening to the disparaging remarks 
made upon him by a set of sharpers, 
whom he, all the while, knew to be un- 
worthy of credit. After hearing one pro- 
nounce him " blind," and another, *' spa- 
vined," and another, »* wind-galled," as 
they successively examined his points, and 
all agreeing that he was only fit to be cut 
up for a dog-kennel, **I began," says he/ 
** to have a most hearty contempt for the 
poor animal myself, and was almost 
ashamed at the approach of every cus- 
tomer ; for though I did not believe all 
the fellows told me, yet I reflected that 
the number of witnesses was a strong 
presumption that they were right." 

On the same principle, and on no other, 
can we account for the opinion, so exten- 
sively prevalent, even among such as 
wish to think well of our Pilgrim Fathers, 
that somehow or other they wronged the 
poor Indians ; humane and upn'ght to the 
minutest punctilio of Puritanism in all 
their other relations, here they were 
strangely unkind and even cruel ; here 
they allowed themselves to cheat and de- 
fraud and steal. So often and so boldly 
have these imputations been cast upon 
them by a succession of writers and speak- 
ers, beginning with Thomas Lechford, 
and coming down to Peter Oliver, that 
one who has never investigated the sub- 
ject, though he may '• not believe all the 
fellows told" him, will very naturally con- 
clude that there must be some fire where 
there is so much smoke— some grains of 
truth in the agreeing testimony of so 
many witnesses. Let us find out, if we 
can, what the real facin are. 

And, to begin at the beginning, it is an 

VOL. I. 17 



unquestionable fact that the first settlen 
of New England left; home with the kind- 
est possible feelings towards the natives 
of these shores ; if we may credit their own 
testimony. The Mayflower company, 
while yet in Holland, announced **the 
propagating and advancement of the gos- 
pel of the kingdom of Christ in these re- 
mote parti of the world," as one of the 
chief reasons for their removal. [Brad- 
ford, p. 25.] The Massachusetts Compa- 
ny recognized in their charter the fact, 
that to **win and incite the natives to 
the knowledge and^ obedience of the 
only true God and Saviour of mankind,** 
was " the principal end of this plantation," 
and "the adventurers* free profession." 
[Mass. Col. Rec. i. 17.] Such a profes- 
sion was even engraved on the Company's 
seal, in the figure of an Indian, with the 
words, " Come over and help us," 
proceeding from his mouth. But as if 
thi^-j mute remembrancer, pictured on ev- 
ery business letter and document of the 
corporation, were not sufiScient to keep 
the thing in mind. Governor Cradock, 
before the charter was brought over by 
AVinthrop, repeatedly addressed to the 
settlers, already here, such words as these : 
** We trust you will not be unmindful of 
the main end of our plantation, by en- 
deavoring to bring the Indians to the 
knowledge of the gospel ; which, that it 
may be the speedier and better efi'ected, 
the earnest desire of our whole Company 
is, that you [Endicott] have a diligent 
and watchful eye over our people ; thai 
they live unblamable and without reproof, 
and demean themselves justly and cour- 
teously towards the Indians, thereby to ' 
draw them to affect our persons, and con- 
sequently our religion. Also endeavor to 
get some of their children to train up to 
reading, and consequently to religion, 



180 



the PUgrim wrtmg the IndkM ? 



[Araiiy 



whilst thej are yonng. To youDg or old 
omit no good opportunity that may tend 
to bring them out of the woeful condition 
they are in; in which case our prede- 
cessors in this land sometime were ; and 
but for the mercy and goodness of our 
good God, might have continued to this 
day. But God, who, out of the boundless 
ocean of his mercy, hath shewed pity and 
compassion to our land, he is all-sufficient, 
and can bring this to pass which we now 
desire in that country likewise ; only let 
US not be wanting on our parts, now we 
are called to the work of the Lord, neither 
haying put our hand to the plow, let us 
look back." ** Above all we pray you be 
careful that there be none in our pre- 
cincts permitted to do any injury (in the 
least kind) to the heathen people ; and it 
any offend in that ,way, let him receive 
due correction." " If any of the savages 
pretend right of inheritance to all or any 
part of the lands granted in our patent, 
we pray you endeavor to purchase their 
title, that we may avoid the least scruple 
of intrusion." [Mass. Col. Rec. i. 384, 95.] 
These few extracts show, beyond a 
doubt, what were their original intentions. 
But did they carry them into effect ? Did 
the Plymouth Pilgrims ever do on this 
side the water, what they said on the 
other? Did the settlers of Salem and 
Boston follow the good advice so feelingly 
given by their friends at home? Did 
these same advisers, when they became 
colonists, as many of them did, bring into 
practice their own preaching? Such 
questions as these have oflen been put 
with a tone and a leer, intended to signify 
an emphatic answer in the negative. It 
has even been pretended that, instead of 
befriending the poor Indian, the first thing 
they did to him was an act of robbery 1 
[See Baylies* Hist Mem. of New Plym., 
pt. i. p. 64.] It will be recollected that 
while the Mayflower lay at anchor in 
Cape Cod harbor, an exploring party 
ibund four or five bushels of com buried 
in the sand, but could not find the owners. 
Bttng in great want of just that article, 



they filled their pockets, and an old iron 
kettle — a waif from some shipwrecked 
vessel, which the natives had picked up— 
and returned on board, intending to pay 
the owners its full value, whenever they 
could be found; which was accordingly 
done about six months after. **And 
here," says the devout Bradford, who was 
one of the exploring party, ** is to be no- 
ticed a special providence of God, and a 
great mercy to this poor people, that here 
they got seed to plant them com the next 
year, or else they might have starved, for 
they had none, nor any likelyhood to gel 
any till the season had been past (as the 
sequel did manifest). But the Lord is 
never wanting unto his in their greatest 
needs; let his holy name have all the 
praise." [Bradf. Hist p. 83.] But not- 
withstanding the purity of their motives, 
and their pious recognition of God*s gra- 
cious hand in the whole proceeding ; not- 
withstanding their per^stent and success- 
ful efforts to find out the owners, and an 
actual settlement with them **to their 
good content," still the assertion that it 
was a thefl is reiterated and apparently 
believed. It is not strange that a flippant 
debater or lyceum lecturer, ambitious to 
get off smart sayings, should utter this 
conceit But that a writer of (ordinarily) 
so much candor and good judgment as 
Francis Baylies should represent the Pil- 
grims as " inexcusable " in this matter, 
and " compromising their consciences," is 
truly amazing.^ Are we not bound to 

1 " Had the rompany been perishing with hanfer, 
this appropriation of the property of others migbl 
hare been Justified. As it was it was inexeosable; 
the com was not a waif: erery necessary precaation 
had been taken by the sarage owners to secure it. 
TbA excuse which tome of their fanatical brvthran 
would hare made, ' that the Lord had gircn the 
heathen for an inheritance and spoil,' was wanting to 
them, for they compromised with their eonacienoM 
by resolTing upon the spot that they would mak* 
compensation to the owners wheneTer they should 
discoTer them ; and fortunately for their moral rep- 
utation, six months afterwards they carried tliat 
resolution into effect, and fully satisfied the owners.') 

This is Mr. Baylies' comment entire ; and its ud- 
fiiirness is equalled only by the statement of the suim 
respected author, In another connection, that '* Mist 
Poole,"— the guiding soul of the Taunton seltlers,^ 
<* was the first of th« Engliah who praotleaUy ad* 



lU^] 



Did the PUgrvm wrong the In/HaMf 



131 



faelieTe that thej did nothing yery heir 
aooa, when sach a transaction as this is 
put forth as a specimen of their wrong 
doing? Feacefol indeed must be the 
conscience that was never ** compromised" 
in a worse manner. 

But let us proceed in our search after 
the &cts. What staggered the Vicar of 
Wake6eld most, was that fatal agreement 
of the horse-jockeys. They all gave j udg- 
ment the same way. Nobody had a kind 
or counteracting word wherewith to break 
the fi>rce of so much adverse testimoay, or 
even to breed a doubt But in the case 
before us it is far otherwise ; there is a 
remarkable discrepancy, amounting to a 
direct contradiction. Nobody need feel 
obliged to believe that our Puritan fathers 
abused the Indians, merely because some- 
body has said so ; for somebody else has 
laid exactly the contrary. The assertion 
so often and so positively made, that they 
got their lands from the natives by decep- 
tive treaties and fraudulent trades — which 
even Hutchinson seems willing to believe 
[Hist Mass. i. 252.] — is quite as positively 
denied by those who have equal means of 
information, and who, to say the least, 
eojoy as fair a reputation for candor and 
good judgment Dr. Dwight [see his 
Travels, i. 167,] assures us that " the an- 
nals of the world cannot furnish a single 
instance, in which a nation, or any other 
body politic, has treated its allies, or its 
•objectB, either with more justice or more 
humanity, than the New England colo- 
nists treated this people. Exclusive of 
the country of the Pequots, the inhabi- 
tants of Connecticut bought, unless I am 
deceived, every inch of ground contained 
within that colony, of its native proprietors. 
The people of Rhode Island, Plymouth, 
Massachusetts and New Hampshire, pro- 
ceeded wholly in the same equitable man- 
ner. Until Philip's war, in 1675, not a 
angle foot of ground in New England 
was claimed or pccupied by the colonists 

Bitted tb« torn of that moral obUgation irhieh i»- 
quirM the eonsent of the owner before property can 
be taken from hie poeseiik>D and appropriated to the 
vecf ABOlhar." 



on any other score but that of fiur pnr* 
chase." This is very strong rebutting 
testimony, and is repeated, in substancOi 
by Bancroft, Barry and Palfrey. Mr. 
Bancroft's words are: **The inhabitanta 
of New England had never, except in l^e 
territory of the Pequots, taken possession 
of a foot of land, without first obtaining a 
title from the Indians." [iL 98.] Mr. 
Barry says : *^ They had no disposition to 
injure the natives, or to treat them with 
harshness. They purchased of them the 
lands they occupied, and never, save in 
one instance— during the Pequot war — 
forcibly possessed themselves of a single 
foot of ground." [i. 405.] Alluding to 
symptoms of hostility just before the plot 
of the Pequots was disclosed, Mr. Palfrey 
remarks : *' The Indians had had no pro* 
vocation. Not a foot of land previously 
in their occupation had been appropriated 
by the Colonists, except by purchase";— 
to which he then adds the more compre- 
hensive observation, that "through the 
whole period of the colonial history, the 
legislation respecting the natives waa 
eminently just and humane." [i. 362, 8.] 
These agreeing views have the more 
weight, as being derived, apparently^ 
from different and independent sources 
of information. 

As to the two exceptional cases here 
brought to notice — the lands belonging 
to the Pequots and King Philip — they are 
both of them cases where, if ever, the 
right of possession was fairly acquired by 
conquest The Pequots not only com- 
menced hostilities by an unprovoked mur* 
der, but while peaceful negociations for 
redress were pending, they added twenty- 
nine more victims, slaughtered one by 
one, or in family groups, before the colo- 
nists resorted to actual war. It was a 
fight for existence. Such was the posture 
of afi*airs — made such by the artful Sas- 
sicus — that the extinction of either the 
Puritans or the Pequots had become a 
necessity. The same was true in the war 
with Philip of Mount Hope. A conspiracy, 
extending along the entire frontier of 



id2 



Did the PUgrims wrong the Indiamf 



[Afbil^ 



New England, from Long Island Sound 
to Canada, plotted by the most daring 
and sagacious warrior of his time, and 
whose single aim it was to exterminate 
the whites — such a conspiracy, if success- 
fblly resisted and crushed, might well en- 
title the victors to the deserted lands of 
the vanquished, especially when that vic- 
tory had cost one eleventh of all their 
men, and more than that proportion of 
their dwellings, — as some have computed 
the results. 

Lest it be thought that these opinions 
of New England men concerning; the 
conduct of New England's founders, 
are given under a self-favoriog bias, 
we will go out of the country, and off 
from the continent, for a witness or 
two. Yattel, in his Law of Nations, [B. 
i. ch. 18,] setting forth the propriety of 
** restricting savages within the narrowest 
limits," says : " We cannot, however, fail 
to applaud the moderation of the English 
Puritans, who first established themselves 
in New England, and who, though fur- 
nished with a charter from their sov- 
ereign, bought from the savages the land 
which they wished to occupy." This, 
from a Frenchman, whose sense of pro- 
priety would have been in no wise 
shocked by recording exactly the oppo- 
nte, has more than the force of an opin- 
ion ; he must have been very sure of the 
fact on which that opinion was founded. 
In a book entitled ** The New England 
Theocracy," lately translated from the 
German of H. F. Uhden, a particular 
friend and favorite pupil of Dr. Neander, 
and whose stand-point is entirely diflferent 
from either of the foregoing witnesses, we 
have the following observations. Refer- 
ring to the treaty made with Massasoit in 
the spring ot 1621, and its effect in secur- 
ing quiet for more than half a centur}% — 
•• these friendly relations," says he, " were 
maintained by strict attention to justice 
in dealing with the Indians. I'he land 
needed for the settlement was purchased 
of them ; a court of justice was established 
for protecting them against fraads by pri- 



vate persons, and in all their relations 
with them the English were subjected to 
the full rigor of the law." 

The truth of this last remark finds 
ample and amusing illustrations in the 
colonial records. Take these as speci- 
mens. ** November 7, 1 682. It is agreed 
that Sir Richard Saltonstall shall give 
Safl^amore John a ho<rshead of com for 
the hurt his cattle did him in his com." 
[Mass. Col. Rec. i. 102.] Here we have 
a Baronet fined for letting his cattle hurt 
an Indian's cornfield ; and that, in all 
after times, there might be no mistaking 
the nature of the transaction, ^* Sr Ri: 
Salt, amerst" is placed in the maigin 
against the Court record, with admirable 
simplicity. *'Juned, 1634, Mr. Thomas 
Mayhew is entreated by the Court to ex- 
amine what hurt the swine of Charlestown 
hath done amongst the Indian bams of 
corn, on the North of Mystic, and accord- 
ingly the inhabitants of Charlestown prom- 
ise to give them satisfaction." [Ibid. L 
121.] " October 28, 1645, Thomas Hay- 
ward of Duxbury, is ordered by the Court 
to pay unto Wannapokp, a Neipnet In- 
dian, half a bushel of Indian com for 
venison he took of him." [Plym. Col. 
Rec. ii. 89.] " May 13, 1640. It is or- 
dered, that in all places the English shall 
keep their cattle from destroying the In- 
dians' corn in any ground where they 
have right to plant ; and if any com be 
destroyed for want of fencing or herding, 
the town shall be liable to make satisfac- 
tion, and the towns shall have power 
among themselves to lay the chaise where 
the occasion of the damage grew ; and 
the Indians are to be encouraged to help 
towards fencing in their cornfields." 
[Mass. Col. Rec. i. 293-4.] Here, it will 
be observed, the Indian fares better than 
the white man ; for the law protects his 
cornfield, whether he fences it in or not — 
though, to be sure, he is " encouraged ** 
to help his white neighbors fence it for 
him. Repeated instances are found, in 
these early Court records, of legal penal- 
tics lightened merely because the trans- 



1859.] 



the PSgrima wrong the Indians f 



1^3 



grei^or is an Indian — ^where the legislation 
of our fathers, like that of the Great Law- 
giyer, is less exacting, in proportion to 
the little knowledge of those for whom it 
is designed. But there is no recorded 
instance of a white man escaping punish- 
ment for a wrong done to an Indian, 
which would be a punishable offence if 
done to anybody else. On the contrary, 
punishment seems to have been meted 
out with all the more fulness and force, 
when the injured party was a heathen — 
fiir the reason, perhaps, that it was a part 
of the Colonists' professed errand here to 
convert him. The second instance of 
capital punishment in the Plymouth pa- 
tent, was the execution of three whites — 
Arthur Peach, Thomas Jackson, and 
Richard Stennings — for the murder of 
one Indian. [Plym. Col. Rec. i. 96-7] ; 
while in the Massachusetts patent, *' Octo- 
ber 3, 1632, Nicholas Frost, for theft com- 
mitted by him at Damareirs Cove, upon 
Indians," and other improprieties, was 
whipped, and branded with a hot iron, 
and afterwards banished. [Mass. CoL 
Rec. L 100; compare 121, 183.] 

These Court orders are facts, (not opin- 
ions) and though exceedingly dry in 
diemselves, are refreshing to such as have 
been feeding on mere conjectures; and 
will afford just the support suited to minds 
accustomed to underpin their conclusions 
with reliable data. Here, too, those who 
doubt it may verify the assertion of Dr. 
Dwight, and others, respecting the pay- 
ment of the Indians ibr their lands. 
Scarcely anything is oftener or more ex- 
actly noticed. Even the prices are re- 
corded, which, though remarkably low, 
as compared with what the same acres 
would fetch now, were entirely satisfac- 
tory to the owners then.^ It argues a 

1 A ppcclmen of rurh Bale is here Insvrted, in th« 
4Md givvB to the agvnts employed by the tovrn of 
Dazbary to purcbasa the tract on which the foar 
Bridj{eiraters luiTe uprung up. '* Ousanieqain " was 
toother name fur Massasoit^ the old liinK of the 
eouDiry in whieb the Piymouth colony waa located, 
and with whom that celebinted fint treaty wm made 
in 1621. 

'*Wltnc« thcM pxttentf, tluU I, Ooiamtquin, 



great want, either of candor or ccmimon 
sense, to blame the white settlers, as they 
have been sometimes blamed, because the 
natives valued a jack-knife higher than a 
farm, and would sell a township for thirty 
or forty shillings' worth of Yankee no- 
tions, as they might now be called. In 
his untutored state, who shall say that the 
Indian did not get an equivalent, as really 
as the Englishman ? He certainly thought 
he did, or he would not have traded. So 
faint must have been the feeling of indi- 
vidual ownership in the soil over which 
he hunted his game, that whatever the 
white man gave him for it, he probably 

Sachem of the oountry of Poconoket, hare given, 
granted, enfeoffed and sold unto Miles 8tandi»h of 
Daxbary, Samnel Naah and Conatant Soathwortb, of 
Duxbary aforesaid, la behalf of all the townsmen of 
Doxbary aforeraid, a tract of Und osnally called 
Batucket, extending in length and breadth as foUow- 
•th : [here the boundaries are Inserted, and the tract, 
" with all the Immunities, priTilegesand profits what- 
soever, belonging to the said tract of land,** Is 
pasrad over '* to them and their heirs forever."] 

" In wicnem whereof, I the said Oosameqain, hava 
hereunto set my hand this 23d day of March, 1649. 
Witness the mark X of OuBAMKQUUf .^* 

" In consideration of the afbreraid bargain and 
sale, we the said Miles Standlsh, Samuel Nush, and 
Constant Sonthworth, do bind onrselyes to pay unto 
the said Ousamequin for, and in ronrideration of, 
the said trart of land, as foUuweth :— 7 coats, a yard 
and a half in a coat ; 9 hatchets ; 8 hors ; 20 knives ; 
4 moose skins ; 10 yards and a half of cotton. 

Miles Stakdisb. 

Samuel Nasb. 

Co^8TA^T Soctbwoetb." 

Springfield, on both sides of the river, was bought 
for *' 18 fathom of wampum, IS coats, 18 hatchets, 
18 hoex, 18 knives," besides '* 2 coats over and above 
the said particulars ezprefsed," for the chief, Wra- 
thema. The trsct on which Northampton, South- 
ampton, Easthampton, Westhantpton, and a part of 
Hatfield are located, known originally by the name 
of Nonoturk, cost the first purchasers 100 fathom 
wsmpum, (strings of beads made of shells, and netd 
by the Indians as money,) 10 coats, some suiali gifts, 
and " ploughing up 16 attres of land on the East tUl» 
of Quonnecticut river the enruiog f umuier." 

'^ The price paid fur the valuable lands on the Con- 
necticut wss email, or rather, seems smsll to the 
present occupants; but, when it is remembered that 
they were made valuable to the settlers only by pa- 
tient cultivation, and that, with all the labor ex- 
pended in cultivation and defence, the owners were 
extremely poor for many years, the price paid will 
appear to haye been sufficiently large."— (Uolland^ 
Hist. Watt. Mali. toL L p. 40.] 



iu 



JHdtte P^grim vnmg ike JMum^f 



pama^ 



v^^^ardedy not in the light of a qvdd pro 
quo J but as so much superadded to what 
he was worth before. And when, bj 
treaty stipulations, a whole tribe submit- 
ted to English rule — which has also been 
set down to the score of Puritan oppres- 
sion — that submitting tribe thought them- 
selves more than remunerated, as thej 
really were, by the pledge of protection 
0x>m other hostile tribes, which was given 
in return. Be it so, as Hutchinson affirms 
[L 252] that " they had no precise idea" 
of those treaty stipulations, whereby they 
became " subjects to King James ;" they 
could, and did understand, that King 
James was thereby solemnly bound to 
protect them against the Narragansetts, 
or whatever hostile tribe they respectively 
stood in fear of; and this was as much as 
they cared to know. 

The honesty and uprightness with 
which these leagues of friendship, and 
purchases of land were negotiated by the 
first settlers of New England, can be fully 
exhibited only by reciting the terms of 
each, as spread over documents quite too 
voluminous to be epitomized even, in the 
brief remidnder of this article. Those 
documents, which may be found in Drake's 
Book of the Indians, and scattered through 
twelve quarto volumes of colonial records, 
are commended to the perusal of such as 
cannot be otherwise persuaded that we 
have come honestly by our goodly heri- 
tage. To such a task — more instructive 
than entertaining — would we especially 
•commend all such as are resting in the 
conclusion which the author of ** The 
Field Book of the Revolution" has 
reached, and which, with almost oracular 
assurance, he thus announces to the 
world : ** Righteousness, sitting upon the 
throne of judgment, has long since de- 
cided the question of equity ; and in view- 
ing the scene at a distance, we cannot fail 
to discover the true verdict against the 
avaricious white man." [i. 664.] 

In connection with diese Court records 
and treaty documents, many historical 
facts, like the fi>llowing, from Winthrop's 



Journal, might be pro^ki^: ** 
ber 5, 1638, John Sagamore died of the 
small pox, and almost all his people 
(above thirty buried by Mr. Maveriek, of 
Winninmit, in one day). The towna in 
the Bay took away many of &e children, 
but most of them died soon after. James 
Sagamore of Saugus died also, and most 
of his folks. John Sagamore denied to 
be brought among the English, (so he 
was) and promised (if he recovered) to 
live with the English and serve thor 
God. He left one son, which he disposed 
of to Mr. Wilson, the pastor ol Boston, to 
be brought up by him. It wrought much 
with them, that when their oum peojdejor^ 
sook them, yet the EnglM came daily and 
ministered to them.*' [i. pp. 142-3.] These 
incidental allusions to daily life scenes, of 
which the historical memorials of those 
times are full, do not look as though the 
colonists were watching thor opportonity 
to wrong the natives. On the contrary, 
they spoil the credit of any such mmor. 
Men will aim at consistency even in mia- 
chief; but these legislative proceedings, 
and historical averments, and authentic 
legends, are totally inconsistent with the 
idea that the treatment which the Indians 
received from the first settlers of New 
England was in any sense unjust, or even 
unkind. It is not pretended that there 
were no instances of wrong on the part of 
individuals. We have found such; but 
we have also found a public sentiment 
that would detect and punish them. It is 
not pretended that the colonial govern- 
ments never erred in their judgment of 
what was right ; for even Puritan magis- 
trates were not perfect, and did not claim 
to be. But that they intended to be 
strictly just in all their dealings with the 
Indians, and that the general course of 
their policy was characterized by this 
spirit, there is no hazard in asserting. 
The right of the Indians to the soil was 
everywhere admitted, notwithstanding the 
patents and charters conferred by the 
King of England; and that right was 
always respected, till supposed to be fiir- 



lBSi9i\ : JSuHOnrdiff ike Cherehea and Mmkr». 



m 



Mbd hy mtfrntck^ hostilities. Any 
one who thinks he can prove the con- 
trary, is challenged to do it 

The reader maybe sorprised to find 
tUs artieie drawing to a close without a 
more formal notice of those early mission- 
ary labors, which famish such strong 
presomptiTe evidence against the charge 
we have been examining. It was oar in- 
tentioa when we b^an, to have made 
eqMcial use of this argument, before lay- 
ii^ down oor pen. Bnt really it is not 
needed. The &ct that the first attempts 
in modem times to evangelize the hea- 
tiien, were made by the Pilgrims on these 
natives of New England; that the first 
misaionary organization in Protestant 
Christendom — ^the *' Society for Propa- 
gating the Gospel among the Indians in 
North America" — was formed solely to 
aid these attempts ; that previously to the 
breaking out of Philip's war, these mis- 
sionary labors had resulted in the transla- 
tion of the entire 'Bible into the Indian 
tongue; the gathering of six Indian 
churches out of thirty-six villages of 
** praying Indians," and the actual em- 
ployment of nearly fifly teachers and 
calechistB, English and Indian, in the re- 
ligious and educational training of those 
children of the forest, at an annual ex- 
penditure of between seven and eight 
hnndred pounds sterling, — these authen- 
tic and world-known facts might indeed 
be set in triumphant array against 
the rumors of wrong and outrage in- 
flicted on these poor heathen by the very 
men who were so laboriously and success- 
fully employed in converting them. But 
there is no occasion for it Those who 



ate capable of convidaon by sach eonaid-* 
erations, will be convinced without them. 
There are at least two sorts of people to 
whom the world owe most of their miscon- 
ceptions in this matter ; and it so happens 
that they are persons with whom histori- 
cal facts have little or no weight. One is 
the sentimentalist, whose interest in ** the 
children of the forest," and their " feather- 
cinctured chief," is merely a poetic fancy, 
or fervor, which cannot endure the idea 
of turning an Indian hunting-ground into 
a cornfield, a stone mortar and pestle 
into a grist-mill, and a birch-bark canoe 
into a steamboat Another is the ultra 
philanthropist, whose humanity is of a 
teJtture to be less shocked at seeing a 
neighbor murdered, than at seeing the 
murderer hung ; and who must, therefore, 
from principle and conscience and con- 
sistency, condemn the man — especially the 
Christian man — who shoots down a sav- 
age, when he might avoid the necessity by 
permitting himself to be tomahawked first 
Historical facts, whatever their bearing, 
can have no influence on either of these 
classes, so long as it still remains an ad- 
mitted fact that the white man has actually 
supplanted the red. Persons of every 
other faith and feeling, it is hoped, may 
find in the foregoing data the ground of 
an acquittal of our fathers from the charge 
of injustice in their treatment of the abo- 
riginal tribes, at least during the first 
two generations. The whole subject of 
their labors for the conversion of the In- 
dians, constituting one of the most inter- 
esting chapters in our religious history, is 
reserved for a future number of the 
Quarterly, 



THE NUMBERING OF THE CHURCHES AND OF THEIR MEMBERS. 



BT REV. ALONZO H. QUIKT. 



We use the expression appearing at off many an excellent, though nervous, 

the head of this article, instead of the ap- reader, whose attention we greatly desire 

propriate term, simply because the mere to secure. When the excellent Oberlin, 

appearance of the latter would frighten in his mission of goodness to a benighted 



136 



NtmAerwg the Churches and Mmben. 



[Afbii^ 



Tillage, wbere the indiyidaal then school- 
master, had been appointed to his position 
upon becoming too old and infirm longer 
to take care of the village bo)r8, while he 
mnst somehow be provided for, attempted 
to procure the services of young and active 
men for that position, he met a scornful 
refusal ; no one would bear the disgrace- 
ful name of schoolmaater. But when he 
said, *^You are right; and respectable 
persons ought not to be schoolmasters; 
you shall be school superintendents^* — ^by 
this notable device he perfectly succeeded. 
Now if our apprehensive readers will for- 
get the odious term which we intend to 
shun, and adopt Webster's definition of 
it, i. e., ** A collection of facts respecting 
the state of society, the condition of the 
people in a nation or country, their 
health, longevity, domestic economy, arts, 
property and political strength," (using 
the parts of this definition in a spiritual 
sense, of course) they will see the exceeding 
value of certain pursuits; statistics (we 
beg pardon, the word slipped out by acci- 
dent), will cease to be identical with the 
palsy, or the Great Desert, or the night- 
mare ; and facts will appear to be some- 
thing which well informed people ought, 
really, to know. We respectfully sub- 
mit, therefore, that in this article, (which 
is intended to suggest their desirable fea- 
tures and the methods of securing them,) 
we refer, not to statistics, but to **A collec- 
tion of facts respecting the state of society, 
&c., &c." The annual ** collection " of 
these facts is now, or is soon to be, in pro- 
gress in the various churches of our de- 
nomination, and we wish to assist the 
various laborious Secretaries in raising 
our reports up to the level of respecta- 
bility. 

The fact ought to be made public, that 
it is neither disgraceful nor hurtful for a 
pastor to pay some slight attention to the 
facts pertaining to his Church, once a 
year. There is a common idea, but very 
erroneous, that it will hurt one's bodily ap- 
pearance to have anything to do with 
figures. When the brethren were col- 



lecting, one day last Summer, in tiie 

old Church at , to organise the 

annual session of the General Associa- 
tion of , one of the delegates 

inquired of the minister of the place 
if he knew Bra So and So, the Statieti- 
cal Secretary. The minister told him 
that he did. ^ Will you point him out to 
me when he comes in ? " ** Certainly^." 
By and by, he did so. '' What, Ikat man V 
** Yes." ** Is U^ the one who collects the 
statistics?" "Yes." "Are you miref 
Do you know him ?" " Certainly — he is 
my near neighbor. Why do yon have 
any doubt on the matter ?" •* Why," said 
the disappointed and hardly convinced 
brother, " I supposed he was some dry, 
withered up, old fellow ;" while near six 
feet perpendicular, breadth in proportion, 
and with a sufliciency of the adipose^ com- 
pletely confounded him. We beg our 
brethren to have no apprehensions. It 
will not hurt their bodily condition in the 
least Nor will it interfere with their dig- 
nity to know how many persons belong to 
their Church, or how many have cove- 
nanted to serve the Lord in any given 
year. Very respectable people have in- 
dulged in such matters; we are informed, 
on good authority, of the exact number 
who went into the ark, and of the num- 
ber of the tribes, and of the chosen peo- 
ple, and their condition at various other 
times ; we are even told how many apos- 
ties there were, and where certain church- 
es stood, and what their purposes were ; 
besides various formidable arrays of figures 
which God thought it worth while to have 
his servants record. A profound inditfer- 
ence to the details and current history ol 
one's own Church and Society docs not, 
therefore, necessarily argue a great mind. 
In fact, instead of great minds neglecting 
trifies, the great men of the world have 
been most distinguished for their aston- 
ishing knowledge of details. The com- 
bination of these, and efficient generaliza- 
tion therefrom, are what constitutes a great 
mind. These hints we throw out for the 
benefit of various brethren who do not 



1859,} 



Nmthmng ike Chvrehea and Mmben. 



187 



Kke to eondeseend to such low tJiings. 
Eyen if tbej have ** no taste for such mat- 
ten," we are willing, ** positively for this 
time only ** and for this purpose only, to 
let the matter of *^ taste " go, and allow 
** tiie exercise scheme." 

Not only will it not hart a pastor, bodi- 
ly or mentally, — it may possibly help his 
nsefblness, to have some actual and pre- 
cise knowledge of the persons committed to 
bis chaige. We came near saying, a few 
fines above, that a minister's greatness 
consisted, on the whole, in his doing his 
duty where God had appointed him to the 
Blessed Work. If we may venture to 
hint it now, then a pastor ought to have a 
knowkdge of all the persons comprising 
his flock. Possibly their souls may need 
a little attention. Possibly the pastor is 
the very man whose duty it is to minister 
tiiat attention. Possibly, if he does min- 
ister to each, he will be able to Record 
tlieir nnmber, and how many are added 
of them to the visible Church in a given 
time, and how many, in the judgment of 
charity, go to the Church triumphant in 
the same period. Possibly, a gentle jog 
once a year, may prove helpful to his ob- 
taining such an accurate and complete 
knowledge of his people ; may suggest, as 
he goes over the list, some poor soul which 
needs comforting, or some lonely home 
where his voice will be a blessing, or some 
wayward heart which may need warning. 
And if such a jog continues to find igno- 
rance, it is painfully suggestive whether 
intelligent faithfulness, as a pastor, is com- 
patible with such ignorance. Noble old 
Cotton Blather used to keep, on a list, the 
name of every member of his regular con- 
gregation, and at set times he used to pass 
whole days on his knees, commending 
every one, by name^ to God, and asking 
wisdom how to meet each case with the 
needed gospel ; and who wonders that his 
labors were abundantly blessed? — the 
g^rious old man, now laughed at by a 
generation not worthy to wipe the dust 
from his shoes. Would it have troubled 
Atm, had he been asked how many souls 

VOL. I. 18 



the Lord had committed to his care? 
And if the mere sight of the names on the 
Church Book should suggest to any pae- 
tor ** so many immortal souls under my 
poor watch," and should lead him to the 
throne of grace, he ought to thank the 
persistent Secretary who gives his delin- 
quent soul no rest 

A truth of a more comprehensive na- 
ture i^ that each pastor, and all con- 
cerned in these numberings, are preparing 
the way for a better administration of our 
stewardship towards our land. The &Cts 
thus acquired are yet to be made of great 
service to the Cause. As for ourselves, 
we would not lift a finger to obtain the 
figures for the mere sake of figures, or of 
their completeness, or for denominational 
comparisons. We look to results yet to be 
accomplished — religious rather than Con- 
gregational, and Congregational for the 
sake of the religious. We. bear in mind 
the fact that our churches, standing side 
by side with other denominations, are to 
Christianize this land. Missionary Socie- 
ties, Church Extenrion Boards, Building 
Funds, churches, are to work together 
for this sole end. Now to work advan- 
tageously, the facts as to our whole coun- 
try must be known, and so accurately that 
the character of every neighborhood shall 
be understood. How many churches, and 
where they are, and what portion of the 
population are united in them ; the supply 
of the ministry, and the preaching of the 
word of God ; the waste places, which are 
yet to be built up ; the deserts yet ** to 
rejoice and blossom as the rose ;*' — these 
things ai*e to be understood better than 
they yet have been. The fields must be 
more judiciously surveyed. The map is 
yet to be spread out. 

We are of the number of those who be- 
lieve that our Missionary Societies are yet 
to take a higher position than the churches 
have hitherto allowed them to take. In- 
stead of waiting till somebody somewhere 
wakes up enough to beg, and estimating 
the taxable property of the petitioners, 
the whole ground is to be aggressively 



1S8 



Numkerkiff the Ckurehes and Menders 



l&nst, 



oeeapied. Places deititate of liie gospel 
are to hare tlie gospel. Ministers are to 
go where the gospel is needed. Chris- 
tians are to send theuL Systematically 
to accomplish this work, a careful and 
accurate knowledge of the whole ground 
is indispensable. Not that our own de- 
nomination is to work alone and for them- 
telves ; in fact, to avoid needless encoun* 
ters with others, and the consequent waste 
of efforts, (which is the least of the evil 
results,) is this very knowledge needed. 
There exist at the present time no ready 
means of ascertaining the destitutions of 
car country, and we may perhaps say, of 
more than one or two States. The great 
value of the statistics, when they are 
rendered sufficiently exact, will consist in 
affording just such data as are indispen- 
sable t9 this knowledge. The partial ex- 
plorations, occasionally made, will not 
•affice. 

Take, ibr example, one of the States 
best supplied, Massachusetts. Apart from 
the detorminadon engendered in the Uni- 
tarian division, to plant an Orthodox 
Church by the side of every Unitarian 
one, a work now well nigh accomplished, — 
we doubt whether any systematic plan 
has ever been had to give the gospel to 
every community. Certainly no data ex- 
ist by which the destitutions can be ac- 
curately known, and not even a list of 
towns destitote of a Church of our own 
faith, was known to exist until within 
two years. The disastrous results of a 
want of system on more limited fields are 
evident In the city of Boston, for ex- 
ample, churches have been located to suit 
personal convenience or whim, rather 
than actual wants ; money has been thus 
badly invested ; churches have died out ; 
and other changes will yet have to be 
made, — a part, indeed, rendered neces- 
sary by the change of residences into 
places of business, but another part di- 
rectly traceable to absence of considerate 
judgment ; and of this, other and shrewder 
denominations have reaped the fruits. 
Conader what the extensioa of such a 



system is over the whole eontntiry, and lit 
see what waste would be caused l^ the 
interference of den<Hninations» by the iib* 
judicious expenditure of means, and what 
numbers of plages must be ne^^ected. 

The time ought soon to codie whea 
there shall be in print, a census, speci- 
fying ^y^ry distinct locality in the United 
States, with its population, and with the 
name and size of every evangelical 
Church in each, its yearly additiona aad 
losses, with its Sabbath School interesli^ 
together with the ministerial supply. Des- 
titutions would then be visible at a glance. 
The friends of truth would come leas and 
less to interfere with each other. The 
land would more easily be posacMod. 
Vague ideas would give place to exaet 
knowledge, and the work to be done 
would be comprehended. 

But until our own statistics are reapee^ 
able, we have no concern with those ef 
others. At the present time they art 
sadly defective. To help to attain a bet- 
ter state of thiaga, and with a hope to w^ 
cure an approach to uniformity, we make 
thcM suggestions as to the features of the 
stetistics wanted,— encouraged by the fiwt 
that the movement undertaken by the 
American Congr^ational Union, and a»> 
sisted by the example of what had beea 
accomplished in one State, has alreadj 
greatly improved our denominational r»> 
ports. 

1. Our stetistics should be denomina- 
tional; by which we mean that they 
should specify the items and take the 
form naturally suggested by the genius of 
Congregationalism. Thus with the Bap- 
tists, *' baptisms " are equivalent to ** pro- 
fession ;" with us, it is not sa With 
Unitarians, the number of Church meo^ 
bers is not ascerteinable ; with us, the re- 
quirement of a '* change of heart,** and 
the prerequisite to communion, make the 
number of professed believers accurately 
defined. With the Methodists, the ab- 
sence of power in the societies makes 
their stetistics content themselves with the 
mere number of communioantSy but tbe|r 



2M».] 



NvmAerwg the Churehet and Mimben. 



139 



are r^ ip^dfie as to minifterial mattevs; 
witb OS, all that concerns the Church 
itnlf shook! be exhibited. Natarally, 
liMrelore, the name of a Church, its ex- 
act locality, the precise date of its oi^gan- 
iaation, are first easentiaL Then the 
naoie of its minister, his exact date of 
orif^nal ordination, and the time of his 
pi tj s e nl settlement Then the exact num- 
ber, at a given date, of the male and fe- 
flMle members, with their total, and the 
number of absentees appearing on the list, 
wUeh is essential to a knowledge of the 
Obvvch's eflkiency. Then the result of 
tke preceding yearns labor, viz : the addi- 
tkHM, divided into those ** by profession " 
aad liiose ** by letter;" the losses, speci- 
Qrhig'how many by death, by dismissal to 
other chnrcfaes, and by exconununication ; 
the baptisms, specifying ^adults" and 
■^nftafs." Then, the total number in 
tke (8a b bi<h School* somming together 
tSichm and scholars. Whether the 
amomt of donations can be, practically, 
obtained is doubtfiil; bat all the pre- 
ceding items are indispensable. 

Now when we turn to the various pub- 
lieations of our General Asaociations, we 
find that the statistics of New Hampshire, 
Vermont and Massachusetts, include all 
Uiese items in full. Maine lacks only the 
date of ministerial ordination; Rhode 
Island omits the month and day of dates ; 
Connecticut omits the ** Sabbath School ;" 
New York omits the month and day of 
dates, and the date of ordinations, nor does 
it indicate whether the minister is actually 
pastor or only a ^ stated supply ;** New 
Jtney^ Pennsylvania, Indiana, Nebraska, 
and Oregon do not publish at all, nor 
does Ohio thid year ; Illinois omits *' month 
and day " and the time of ordination, and 
hot partially distinguishes between pas- 
ton and stated supplies ; ot Michigan we 
are promised something better next year, 
and hence spare its present issue ; Wis- 
consin omits all dates whatever, and col- 
umns of ** males" and '* females ;*' Iowa 
omits all dates, save the year of com- 
aenciog labor in the field in question, 



omits ** males," ^ females," *« absent," and 
*^ totals " of gains and losses ; Kansas re- 
ports only names and numbers, and time of 
conmiencing labor; California jumbles 
together various matters in almost undia* 
tinguishable confusion ; from all of which 
we see room for considerable improve- 
ment In some States improvement is 
already resolved upon, and we commend 
to all our General Associations the VsB- 
MONT tables as appearing altogether the 
best of the whole list, — with one single 
improvement from the Massachusetts star 
tistics, vis : to specify (1) the name of the 
town, (2) the locality in the town, and (8) 
the name of the Church ; and also to in- 
sist on the first name of every clergyman. 

2. To be of use, our statistics should be 
complete, ^perfect and entire, wanting 
nothing." 

The statistics of each State should i^ 
port every Congregational Church in thai 
State, and should distinctly specify the 
towns in which none exist Massachu- 
setts minutes, issued twenty years ago, ava 
next to valueless, from the tact that many 
individual churches, and those in the 
bounds of one whole Association, were 
omitted, without the slightest mention of 
thtrir existence; again and again have 
churches, which failed to report, had 
their names stricken out, as if that rem- 
edied the matter; the present Statistical 
Secretary has restored the names of twelve 
churches thus dropped. Our State bod- 
ies are not divinely organized, and they 
have no right to apparently disfellowship 
a Church because it is not in their con- 
nexion. Now of no States but Maine, 
New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, 
and Connecticut, do we feel the slightest 
certainty that all the churches are enu- 
merated, while in many others, on ac- 
count of peculiar difficulties, there is no 
pretence to such completeness. At least 
225 churches are thus passed by. Every 
Church should be enumerated, whether 
reported or not 

But every Church should be reported* 
In no other way can reliable fiwts be at- 



140 



Numbering ihe Churehes and Members. [Amjl, 



oertiined ; and never should an old re- 
port be repeated. We have in mind an 
instance where a newly settled pastor 
hnmorously answered our query as to the 
** males " and ** females " constituting the 
276 members of his Church, by saying 
that he could not tell, but he was certain 
as to the 276 members, as that report had. 
been annually made for ten years. How 
many old reports are copied we cannot 
estimate, but we know of no States which 
resist the temptation except Massachu- 
setts, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island ; 
although perhaps other States do. The 
number omitting to report at all is gen- 
erally easily ascertained ; in Maine, old 
reports fill the gap ; in New Hampshire, 
none are delinquent; in Vermont, 49, 
with 22 copied ; in Massachusetts, none ; 
in Rhode Island, one; in Connecticut, 
23 ; in New York, 5 ; in Illinois, 15 (if we 
count the obscure tables rightly) ; in 
Michigan, none, (by a summary process of 
cc^ying); in Wisconsin, 13, (of which 
some are supplied from previous years) ; 
of the other States nothing can be said. 
In all, the number is large who have a 
** name to live " in our liJsts, but present 
no other evidence of life. 

Each Church should report every item 
also. This may seem a small matter, but 
it needs no peculiar skill in mathematics 
to see that if a hundred churches omit one 
item each, ^d another hundred a second, 
and so on through the list, it is the same 
as though a hundred churches had actually 
£uled to report. At least 243 of our 
enumerated churches last year entirely 
neglected to report additions and losses ; 
and the proportion which omitted one or 
more items Is enormous. The result of 
attempts to fill up these defects is some- 
times comical; we have before us a 
Church which has, in the same line, 
** members last year," 15, no additions, no 
losses, " members this year," 8 ; another 
which fell from 39 to 30 in the same mys- 
terious way ; another, which, by receiving 
2 members, rose from 72 to 95, and yet 
distinctly iUclares that it has neither 



males nor iemales.in the Cliiucli; and 

these are specimens of scores. The diffi- 
culty in these cases is that somebody has 
manufactured a statement to fill up the 
blank. In Maine, it b impossiUe to tell the 
number of churches furnishing iwiperfect 
returns ; in New Hampshire it was, last 
year, 17 ; in Vermont, 46 ; in Massacha- 
settsi 16 out of 482 ; in Rhode Island, I 
out of 20 reporting ; in Connecticut, it it 
impossible to tell, inasmuch as the absence 
of ciphers is like chanty in 1 Peter, iv : 8 ; 
in New York, where peculiar obstacles 
exist, 90; in Illinois, the Connecticttt 
mantle is fashionable, with similar results ; 
in Michigan, two items only are reported 
by any Church; in Wisconsin, 10; in 
Iowa, the Connecticut custom fidls even 
to hide the evident delinquencies. 

In addition to Church items, there 
should be a complete list of all Orthodox 
CongregaticHial deigymen in each Slate. 
At present none such exist, thoogh in 
Massachusetts one was last year attempt^ 
ed. Ministers are now counted twice 
in very many instances ; and others are 
omitted, in large numbers. It seems to 
be forgotten that membership in Associa- 
tions is not the test of fellowship. 

3. The arrangement of our statistics 
should be simple and clear. Associations, 
and churches in Associations, should be 
arranged alphabetically; Maine, New 
Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, 
Rhode Island, New York, Illinois, and 
Iowa, have now adopted this plan. There 
should be full *' explanations '* prefixed 
or attached to the tables, which is now 
done only in Massachusetts and New 
Hampshire. An index of ministers, (with 
P. O. address,) one of towns, and one of 
the proceedings of the Greneral Associa- 
tion, are indispensable ; Maine and Wis- 
consin give the first and third; New 
Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island (sub- 
stantially), New York, Illinois (partially), 
Michigan (partially), Iowa (partially), 
give the first ; Massachusetts alone, gives 
all three ; and Connecticut and California 
neither. The style of printing the an- 



1859.] 



Senry Wolcoti and his ChUdren. 



141 



noal proceediDgs in several of the States 
makes a confused medley of the if hole 
matter, almost defying investigation. 
Each item of business should be separated 
from every other, and should have its ap- 
propriate heading, which the eye can 
readily catch. There should also be in- 
serted, the names of officers, times of 
meeting, and every other item desirable 
to be known, conspicuously printed and 
arranged, so as to inform any person, how- 
ever unacquainted with our affairs. 

It will be seen that the statistics of no 
State are now, in all respects, satisfactory. 
At the same time, great improvements 
have been made within the past few 
yeaxB ; and improvements, we have rea- 
son to know, are resolved upon in the 
nextxissues. This being the case, it may 
seem invidious to chronicle existing de- 
fects ; bat such a chronicle seems necea- 
sary to help on the movement, and 
especially to produce that uniformity of 
plan which is so desirable in itself, and 
which will be necessary if the various re- 
ports are ever to be printed in one vol- 
ume. That project has been suggested, 
and may yet be realized; but no one, 
aware of the present defects, could ask 
any man so far to abandon self-respect as 
to attach his name to such a medley as 
the present issues would furnish. Even 
the few items which the present energetic 
Secretary of the American Congrega- 



tional Union attempts, by laborioos 
efforts, to complete for the Year Book, 
show^tbe difficulty of compiling anything 
satisfactory out of the heterogeneous mass 
submitted to him ; the cooling of masses 
of such varying specific gravities, throws 
everything into cracked and disjointed 
confusion. If this is the case with so few 
items, a compiler of full tables would, be- 
fore affixing his name, feel like Falstaff, 
as he looked on his ** hundred and fifty 
tattered proffigates ;" ** if I be not ashamed 
of my soldiers, I am a soused gurnet," 
said he to Bardolph ; ** eye hath not seen 

such scarecrows;' I'll not march 

through Coventry with them, that* s flat" 
To remedy these defects, there must be 
a Statistical Secretary in each State, — a 
man persistent, industrious, obstinate, 
energetic, good-natured, imperturbable, — 
who shall have exclusive charge of se* 
curing and publishing the ^tistics; a 
Statistical Scribe, of like character, in 
each local Association ; and a feeling on 
the part of churches and pastors that an 
accurate knowledge of our field of labor 
is imperiously demanded. When these 
things are rightly established, an inquirer 
for some wanted fact in our statistics 
would no longer be able to repeat the 
endorsement of a sheriff, who had failed 
to secure the person he was ordered to 
arrest, ** non comeatUms in swampo.** 



HENRY WOLCOTT AND HIS CHILDREN: 

A PURITAN FAMILY. 



BY REV. SAMXTEL WOLCOTT, OP PROVIDENCB, B. I. 



Henry Wolcott was the second son 
of John Wolcott, of Galdon Manor, Tol- 
land, in Somersetshire, England, where 
he was born; he was baptized in the 
adjoining parish of Lydiard St. Law- 
rence, Dec. 6, 1578.^ He married, Jan. 

•1 We go back no farther than thie, although our 
neord of the flunily In England embraces leTeral 
fMMnlions. Tbt fbllowlng iaeidant, x«lattng to 



19, 1606, Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas 
Saunders, of Lydiard St Lawrence ; she 

John Waleot of Waloot, who liTed in the early part 
of the 15th century, and explaining the intro- 
duction of rooka into the Coat of Arms, may hare 
a little general Interest just now, when the mania 
for ohess-playing is so preraleoft. It is recorded 
of him, In the old &mUy pedigree, that ** playing 
aft the ohesse with Henry the fifth, kings of Bnglande, 
he gaTe him the eheok matte with the zonke, whan- 



142 



Hmry Wolecit and his Chiblrm. 



[Apbil^ 



was baptized Dee. 20, 1584. "^Thts 
happie pair were married About je year 
1606. He came to New England about 
the year 1628, and in the year 1680 
brought over his family, to avoid the per- 
secution of those times against Dissen- 
ters." » 

This was during the reign of King 
Charles I., while its oppressiveness was 
felt, but several years before the roused 
spirit of the people, under the good 
guidance of Oliver Cromwell, swept 
away his authority and his tyranny to- 
gether. 

** Every comer of the nation," says Eng- 
land'd latest historian, in describing this 
epoch, ** was subjected to a constant and 
minute inspection. Every little congre- 
gatiou of separatists was tracked out and 
broken up. Even the devotions of pri- 
vate families could not escape the vigi- 
lance of spies. And the tribunals afforded 
DO protection to the subject against the 
civil and ecclesiastical tyranny of that 
period." *' This was the conjuncture at 
which the liberties of England were in the 
greatest peril. The opponents of the gov- 
ernment began to despair of the destiny 
of their country ; and many looked to the 
American wilderness as the only asylum 
in which they could enjoy civil and spirit- 
ual freedom. There a few resolute Puri- 
tans, who, in the cause of their religion, 
feared neither the rage of the ocean nor 
the hardships of uncivilized life, neither 
the fangs of savage beasts nor the toma- 
hawks of more savage men, built, amidst 
the primeval forest, villages which are 
now great and opulent cities, but which 
have, through every change, retained 
some trace of the character derived from 



apc>n th« kloica cbangfd bis roat of arms, wbirh wai 
the croM mith flower de luren, aoJ i^aTe Lim the 
roukw for a reineinbraiic«." . . . . " Ic Mf^mex these 
Ghe^s Rookn were at flrsr culled Rooks for being in 
defence of all 3e re*t; and rherefore thej stMnde in 
ye Qt termor t corners of ye ClietweboHrd as Frontier 
Castles. King Wm. ye Conqueror lost g eet Loid- 
ships at Uils playe. And It might well become a 
King, fbr therein are comprftied all ye Stratagnns of 
Warr or plocts of Cfrfll State.'* 
1 MB., "• ftaMf Ohfoooleflt,*' 1691. 



their founders. The government regarded 
these infant colonies with aversion, and 
attempted violently to stop the stream of 
emigration, but could not prevent the 
population of New England from being 
largely recruited by stout-hearted and 
God-fearing men from every part of the 
old England."* 

Of this character was the Puritao Emi- 
grant, of whom we now present a slight 
memorial. He was not an obscure adven- 
turer, but held a fair position among the 
gentry in England, and possessed an 
estate which yielded him a handsome 
income. By the decease of his elder 
brother without issue, he subsequendy 
became proprietor of the £unily estates, 
including the Manor, and a mill in the 
same village. '* Tolland,** says U. G. 
Somerby, Esq., in a letter to the family, 
** is one of the most secluded, quiet, and 
picturesque villages in England. The 
Galdon Manor, which I sketched, and 
which is now occupied as a fiirm boose, 
must at one time have been very exten- 
sive, and the principal room very splen- 
did for the period. It is still richly orna- 
mented with carved work, etc. I visited 
the old Mill, which belonged to the Fam- 
ily at least 300 years ago. The house 
connected with it, now somewhat dil<«pi- 
dated, is the same which was then stand- 
ing, and is a curious specimen of archi- 
tecture, both internally and externally. 
The mill is also the original one, with a 
modern addition to one end ; I made a 
8ket4-h of the house and mill." A portion 
of this property was held by the descend- 
ants of the Emigrant in this country 
until the year 1787, when what remained 
was sold for £850 sterling. 

When Henry Wolcott determined to 
emigrate, he had passed his fif^y-second 
year, and his children were at an age 
when they most needed such advantages 
in the way of education, limited though 
they were, as they could find only in 
their native land. The parents decided, 
as the least trying of the courses open to 

• IUeaalay,|.6»,71. 



1859.] 



Havry WohM and hif CWdrtn, 



148 



tiiiein, (though thej most have taken the 
resolution with a hfavy heart.) to leave 
behind them their two daughters and their 
youngest son, then 6ve years of age, until 
a settlement had been eflected in America. 
Taking three sons, (Henry, George, and 
Christopher,) they went forth, at this 
stik^e of life, to grapple with the hardships 
of a new settlement in an unexplored 
country — retiring forever from their pleas- 
ant seat, from the place of their fathers' 
sepulchres and the birth-place of all their 
children, (from some of whom, in their 
tender years, they were to be separated 
for an uncertain period,) and bravely 
encountering the unknown future which 
awaited them and tbf irs on the deep and 
in the desert They have their reward — 
and they desired none other on earth — a 
Dame and a place among those excellent 
companies, of whom the world was not 
worthy, who came out from the mother 
country to this, at that eventful period, 
on their high mission of civilization and 
Christianity. 

The company, of which they were 
members, consisted of 140 persons; and 
the historian of Connecticut makes the 
following mention of them : 

** In one of the first ships which arrived 
this year, came over the Rev. Mr. John 
Warham,^ Mr. John Maverick,' Mr. Ros- 

1 JORir Wakram came from Exi*rer, England, 
(«4i»re h« b«d bc«n an nninenr mlnlsrer,) as r««rher 
of th« Dorrbester Churrh, Mr. MaTerirk being pas- 
tor. Ue did not rtmore to Connecticut until the 
September following the renioral of his Churrh. He 
r«awln«Hl at Wiadtor nnfil bi^ death, April 1, 1670. 
Cotton Mather sappo^es that he was "the first 
prearher that erer preached with notes in New Eng- 
land." Though *' as pious a man as most that w«re 
oat of heaven," yet he was sa* Jertto " fearful *lejee- 
tioiiflof mind." His wife died in 1614; his daughter, 
Bsther, married, 1st, Rev. ElsaiHr Mnther, the min- 
ister of Northampton, Ms., (who was son of ReT. 
Rlrbard and Cnthftrine (Holt) Mnthrr, of Dorchester, 
Md born May 18, 1687, H. C, 1656, di«-d July 23, 
1609) ; by this marrlHKe she had thrre rhildrnn, vis : 
Warham b. Sept. 7. 1666, and st'ttled in New iliven ; 
Blakim b. Sept 22, 166^, and Eunice b. Aug. 2, 1Q64, 
married Rer. John Williams, *■• the Rrdefmed (!ap- 
tire," and w.ts killed by the Indians Feb 21. 1704 ; 
Esther, widow of Ker. Klenser Mather, married, 2d, 
March 8, 1670, Rer. Solomon Stoddard, snrcess'ir in 
iba miniatry to h(wr tutmmx kkiubaod, aad a toa of 



siter, Mr. Lndlow, Mr. Henry Wolcotl, 
and others of Mr. Warham's Church and 
congregation, who first settled the town of 
Windsor, in Connecticut. Mr. Rossiter 
and Mr. Ludlow were magistrates. Mr. 
Wolcott had a fine estate, and was a ma* 
of superior abilities. This was an honor- 
able company. Mr. Warham had been a 
famous minister in Exeter, the capital of 
the county of Devonshire. The people 
who came with him were from the three 
counties of Devonshire, Dorsetshire, and 
Somersetshire."* "They were a very 
godly and religious people, and many of 
them persons of figure and note, being 
dignified with the title of Mr^ which 
few in those davs were.*** 

They sailed from Plymourh in Eng- 
land, on the 20th of March. 1630, in the 
ship Mary and John, of 400 tons burthen, 

Anthony Stiiddard, «>f Boston ; b. 0<-t 4, 1648, U. 0. 
1662, ordained Sept. 11, 16ri, d. Feb. U, i7k9 ; twalrt 
ehiidren were the fruits of this marriage ; of tb»« 
twelve children, three died young; five daughters 
married clerKymen, (one of whlfh flve, Esther, waa 
the mother of Jokatbah Bowabm); one poo was a 
clergy nuiD, and one a Judge. Of the dcaeandaDta of 
John Warham, in adlirioD to tlie eminent Edwardl 
family (in part,) are included many distinguished 
oames; Prof. S'tlnnion Stoddard, of Mlddiebary, 
Charles Stoddard, Esq , of Boston, and the lamented 
Missionary, DMTid T. Stoddard, are on tlw list of do- 
scendHnts. — Sumn^^s East Botton; Stoddard ^i:- 
pfts; Hist.-Om. Rfghter. q. 

s JoBM Matkeicx was a mintater of tlie Estab- 
lished Churrh, and resided about forty miles from 
Exeter, KngUnd ; be is first mentioned at the timo 
of the s&<tewblNgB in the New Ilospitnl, Plymouth, 
England, to organise a Chorph. Cotton M.ither 
includes him in the '* First Clasals " of ministers, 
Tis : those who " were in the actual exercise of tlieir 
ministry when they left England.*' He was ** some- 
what adeanced In sge," at that period, fie took tlie 
freeman's oath May 18, 1631. A curious account of 
his dr} ing some gun-powdt'r In a pan, over the fire, 
In the Dorcht^nter meeting-house, which whs used as 
a magHsiiie al^o, and the wonderful escape of Maver- 
ick iu the const'quent exploelon of a ^* small barrel," 
are dfscrlbifd in WititbropV Journal, i. *72. Mr. 
Mirveriik expt*cted to rfUiOTe to CountH;tlcut, but 
died Frb. 8, 1036-7, aged '* about sixty." *' A godly 
man, a belofi^l pjtstor, a safe and truthful guide." 
Samuel Maverick, au Episropalian, an early settler 
of Noddled Island, and afterwards Royal Commla- 
s!onf>r, was a son of KfV. John. For a full account 
of each, st-e Sumaer''s Hist of East Boston. q. 

s Trumbull, Hisc. Conn., i. 28. 
« Mass. Uist. Coll., iz. 160. 



144 



Henry Woleatt and his ChUchen. 



[Afbil^ 



Capt Sqaeb, Master. Before their em- 
barkation, after their passage had been 
engaged, they were allowed the privilege 
of organizing themselves into an indepen- 
dent Church. This is now the First 
Church in Windsor — ^the oldest in the 
State of Connecticut^ The Barnstable 
and Plymouth churches, in Massachu- 
setts, had been organized in the same 
way, and these three, so far as we know, 
are the only New England churches 
which had a transatlantic origin. 

They arrived at Nantasket on the 
Lord*8 Day, May 80th, 1630, after a voy- 
age of two months and ten days, and 
landed the next day. A brief account of 
the expedition from one of their own 
number, Capt Roger Clapy one of the 
first settlers of Dorchester, who was then 
a young man, is fortunately extant. We 
quote from it only that portion which 
seems to illustrate the eminently religious 
character of the early New England 
emigration : 

** There came godly ^milies in that 
ship. We were of passengers, many in 
number, (besides seamen,) of good rank. 
These godly people resolved to live to- 
gether ; and therefore, as they had made 
choice of those two reverend servants of 
God, Mr. John Warham and Mr. John 
Maverick, to be their ministers, so they 
kept a solemn day of fasting in the New 
Hospital in Plymouth, in England, spend- 
ing it in preaching and praying; when 
that worthy man of God, Mr. John White 
of Dorchester, in Dorset, was present, 
and preached unto us the word of God in 
the fore part of the day ; and in the latter 
part of the day, as the people did solemnly 
make choice of and call those godly min- 
isters to be their officers, so also the rev- 
erend Mr. Warham and Mr. Maverick 
did accept thereof, and expressed the 
same. So we came, by the good hand of 
the Lord, through the deeps comfortably ; 
having preaching, or expounding of the 

1 It U the porpow of the writer to giTe gome 
Moount of th« Windsor MttlenMDUi and oborchM in 
•notlMr papor. 



word of God, every day for ten weeks 
together, by our ministers." ' 

Of the landing at Nantasket, the ex- 
plorations of the party, the privalaons 
which were suffered, and the first settle- 
ment at Dorchester, Capt Clap gives a 
a pathetic and deeply interesting narra- 
tive, of which our limits will not allow 
even an abstract ; ^ in those days," says 
Clap, ** Grod did cause this people to trust 
in Him." 

The name of Henry Wolcott appears 
in the first List of ^* ffreemen " made in 
Boston, Oct 19, 1630. This was the day 
on which the first Greneral Court in Mas- 
sachusetts was held; consisting not of rep- 
resentatives, but of individual freemen. 
Under the ancient charter of the Colony, 
none were recognized as members of the 
body politic, except such as were admitted 
by the General Court, and took the oath 
of allegiance to the colonial goTemment. 

Wolcott remained at Dorchester but 
six years. With the bulk of the Dorches- 
ter Church, he removed to Connecticut 
There had been, for several years, a dis- 
position among the ^ttlers of several 
Massachusetts towns to remove, — partly 
prompted by scarcity, partly by a desire 
for more land than the nearness of their 
settlements allowed ; and possibly other 
motives, as to government, CTtered. The 
reports of John Oldham, who, with three 
others, had visited Connecticut in 1633, 
and the statements given by Plymouth 
people, who early located there, led them 
to consider that territory with favor. 
They applied, in 1684, to the General 
Court, for permission to remove thither, 
but without effect In 1635, they met 
with better success. Pioneers from Mr. 
Warham's Church at Dorchester, went 
thither in the summer of 1635, most of 
whom were compelled, by the severity of 
the approaching winter, to return ; those 
who remained met with extreme priva- 
tions; a precarious support by hunting, 
or from acorns, malt and grains, reduced 
them to great want ; their cattle died to 
> Toang*s Chronklat, pp. 846-48. 



1859.] 



Henry Wokoit and Ma Children. 



145 



the loss, for the Dorchester people alone, 
of £200. Bat when spring opened, the 
tide of emigration recommenced. The 
towns of Windsor, Hartford, and Weath- 
ersfield, were settled from Dorchester,^ 
Cambridge and Watertown, respectively. 
Among these settlers, Trambull mentions 
•* several of the principal gentlemen,^ viz : 
^ Mr. John Haynes, who at this time was 
Governor of Massachusetts, Mr. Henry 
Wolcott, Mr. Wells," and others, — who 
quieted the Plymouth, the Dutch, and the 
Indian titles, in an honorable manner. 

The greater part of the emigrants went 
by land. "It was" says McCIure,* **a 
long, fatiguing and dangerous march. 
About one hundred men, women and chil- 
dren took their departure from the three 
towns, encumbered with baggage and 
cattle, to travel through an unexplored 
territory. They shaped their course by a 
compass. They had to pick their way 
through forests, over or around swamps and 
mountains, and to construct rafb to help 
them over the streams. They saw here and 
there a solitary foot-path leading to the In- 
dian villages. The Nipnit or inland In- 
dians, whose country they passed through, 
were numerous, and might have taken 
advantage of their weak and defenceless 
condition to cut them off. But the God of 
Israel, vinf conducted the chosen tribes 
through the desert of Arabia, and caused 
the fear of the people of God to fall upon 

1 It b said that the inoTem«Dt was dimgreeable to 
the pastort, who yielded only on seeing the preTalent 
desire of the people. The First Church of Ddrehes- 
ter came hither in an organised state, (organised in 
1680) ; it is now the First Church in Windsor, Ot. 
The Church in Dorchester, which now bears the 
name of the First Church, was oi^nised Aug. 28, 
16S6, and is now Unitarian. The '' Second Church," 
of which Dr. John Codman was the first pastor, and 
Ber. James H. Means the second and present, was 
organised Jan. 1, 1808. 

t We quote this from " a Century ThanlugiTing 
Sermon ; Text, Deuc. ir : 87, 83. Preached in East 
Windsor, Dec. 24, 1795," by Ker. Dr. McClure, of 
South Windsor, of wtiich the original and a rtrised 
manuscript are in our possession. The substance of 
a portion of it was given in a letter by Dr. McClure 
to the MassacbuMtts Historical Society, and appears 
in their Collections, First SerUs^ t. 166, 171. 
VOL. I. 19 



their enemies, in like manner restrained 
the savages of the wilderness from molest- 
ing this worthy company. They were 
fourteen days performing this tedious 
journey. Their hearts did not sink under 
the pressure of sufferings. Some of them 
had lived delicately in their native coun- 
try, but they cheerfully encountered the 
hardships of the way. They fed upon 
the milk of their cattle ; and wrapped in 
their cloaks and blankets, they slept upon 
the ground, amid the nightly bowlings of 
beasts of prey. They were supported hjh 
the goodness of the cause for which they 
had followed Grod into the wilderness ; his 
providence had pointed out to them the 
path of duty; and they devoutly prayed 
and sung Psalms as they marched along, 
and the woods for the first time resounded 
with sacred hallelujahs. They at length 
came in sight of this river, the object of 
their ardent expectation." 

To some of the first settlers of Con- 
necticut, the Massachusetts government 
had given political authority, although the 
territory was clearly beyond its jurisdic- 
tion. This was in force but one year. 
In the year 1637, the first General As- 
sembly was held in Connecticut. Mr. 
Henry Wolcott had been elected a mem- 
ber of the Committee, twelve in number, 
which constituted the Lower House, or 
popular branch of that body ; and thus he 
participated in the first legislative pro- 
ceedings of both Colonies. In 1640, his 
name stands first in the list of inhabitants 
in Windsor. In 164S, he was elected a 
member of the House of Magistrates, as 
the Upper House, the present Senate, 
was then styled, consisting of six or eight 
members ; and he was annually reelected 
during life. 

In the year 1640, Mr. Wolcott appears 
to have visited England. His younger 
children, Anna, Mary and Simon, had 
probably joined the family in America 
before this date ; we can only ascertain 
that they came between the years 1681 
and 1641. 

We have, in our collection of family 



146 



Henry Walcott and his Children. 



[Apbil, 



manuscripts, thirteen letters, tent from 
England during the first thirty years of 
their settlement here. Letters of this 
date, handed down through eight genera- 
tions, are so rare as to be a cariosity, and 
warrant the insertion of the annexed 
specimens. The genuine antiquities of 
the family, however, are some English 
DeedSf older than the settlement of 
America, handsomely engrossed on parch- 
ment, with the original signatures and 
seals attached; one of them bears the 
> Great Seal of Bacon, Lord Chancellor 
of England. We give three letters entire, 
from different persons : 

Cozen Henry my love to you remembered 
and to your fiither and mother to your 
Brothers these are to give you to under- 
derstand that we are all in good health my 
£etther hath remembered his love to you and 
to your father and mother and to the rest 
of your Brothers these are to give you to 
understand that your Brother Simon hath 
been verre sickc of late and soe hath your 
sisters alsoc But now thanks be to al- 
mightie god they are resonabelly wel 
againe Your Brother John continues in 
his ould Course of livinge. We shall al 
desire to have your Companic with us soe 
soone as Conveniently you can good Cozen 
let me Intreatc you to write to me of the 
manner and situation of the Cuntry I have 
sent you in your Box a quire of paper be 
kause you shall remember to write unto 
me soe in hast I levinge you to the prtex- 
ion of the almightie god I end and rcstt 
Your Inseperabcl Cozen 

John Wallcott [Jr], 

WeUington, 22 July, 1631 

7b his Lovinge Cozen 
Henry Wolcott Junior 
in MJtUapan (Dorchester J 

these in new England. 



In Venns in Bushqps lydeard 
the I5th of ApriU 1639 : 

Loving and deare brother my trew love 
and best respects unto yourselfe my sister 
in .Lawe and all my Cuzens remerabred 
wishing allwayes your health and prospe- 
ritie in the Lorde and trusting in God you 
arc in good health as we all weare at the 
writting hearof the Lords name be prayesd 
for it. Breather soe it is that it hath 



pleased the Lord to take to his menie the 
soull of omr deare brother Christopher WoU- 
cott of Wdlington who desesed the 2dth 
of Ikiarch 1639 : In the mominge he died 
vntestat and thareby as I vnderstand that 
his Land faleth vnto yourself or your sonne 
which maketh me to writt vnto you to 
know your minde what you will have done 
in it I desire your answer as soone as maye 
be for I am informed that his land Mleth 
vnto you and all his prsonall estatt falleth 
vnto his wifie and for my paitt I shall have 
nothinge yeat you knowe deare brother 
that I have suported him by his breeding, 
and his being* in Fraimce and by byeing 
him lande by copie into Tolland >I111 Liv- 
ing, and into John Living which 

never cost him a pehnie and nowe in re- 
quitall of it I shall not have a pennie which 
greveth the verie harte of me that it should 
soe fall out, for he did promise our father 
in his death bed that my sonne John WoU- 
cott should be his hcare vnto Tolland Mill 
and allso promised it before manie others, 
yeat neverthelese I will put my trust in 
the Lord for he hath been my helper and 
my shure defense hithervnto and soe he 
shall be vnto the end, for thes things are 
transitorie and put vpon me for triall of 
my patience but the Lord knoweth whome 
are his tharforc vnto him be all honore and 
prayse for ever and ever. 

Breather I reseaved your letcr whearin 
you wrott of dangers that you have had in 
your Countrie whearin god hafh prscrved 
you and soe he will all them that truly 
trust in him, you wrott to vnderstand of 
the course of our Cuntrie it was never by 
my time soe dangprouse as now it is for 
it is proclaymed open warrs betmxt Eng- 
land and Scottland, and our most gracious 
King Charles is gone into Scottland with 
30 or 40 thousand of the traynors as the 
report doeth goe ar gon with him and thare 
are 40 or 50 of a band ar prickt vpon evcrie 
Captines boocke and doe stand at an 
howers w^aming vpon pa}Ti of death thare 
be them prickt whous li^dngs is worth 
200£ a yeare and vpward and thare be 
suplyes apoynted to fill vp the Captins 
boock agayn as sowne as they ar gone it is 
much feared that we have manic danger- 
ouse cnimies but if god be with vs we 
feare not whoe is agaynst us. you wrott 
vnto me to send you a laboring man or to 
and I have spoken vnto divers to goe and 



1859.] 



Henry Woleoit and Ms Children. 



147 



them that be good workmen and can get 
theyer living heaie ar fearfull to go to seae 
for feaie they shall not live to com to your 
land, but wear it not for the danger of the 
seas you mought have inough. 

Broather my wife and chilldren desiieth 
to be remembred vnto your wife and chill- 
dren and we doe daydye praye for your 
proqperitie besiching the Allmighti god to 
blese TB all and send ts his kingdom of 
giaae and the kingdom of glorie in heaven 
through Jesus Christ our only saviour and 
ledemer. Amen. 

Brother I praye you to return me yoiir 
answer conseming the land what shall be 
dune in it wheather I shall mak an enter 
vpon it in your bchalfe vntill you can com 
or send over, for it is bowses much of it 
and must be repayred or otherwise it will 
goe in decaye. 

Broather you wrott conseming the teach- 
ing of the word, it is not soe much taught 
as it was when you lyved heare for thar is 
no lectuarie vsed in no place and but on 
sermon vpon the sabath day, and in manie 
places on sermon in a month and skarse 
that wheaifore manie doc feare that the 
Lord hath ordayned a punishment for it, 
soe I end and rest your Loving brother to 
the utermost of my power vntill death. 

John Wollcott. 

I have writt vnto you at this time 3 let- 
ters becaus if on miscari the other may 
com to your hands, my sonne John is not 
com hom from the Lidens [Indies]. 

jfb my Loving brother 
Hennory WiAleott 
dioelUiig in Winsor 
by quenattecoU riexter 
in Nu England gitie 
these I pray you. 



ffrom Wellington the 20th March 1641 

Loving and kind kinsman Henrie Woll- 
cott my kind love and best respects to you 
remembered with very kind love to your 
second selfe and to all the rest of my Cozens 
In generrale remembered Hoping in the lord 
you are all in good health, as we all were 
at the present writinge hereof praysed be 
God for it : These few lines are to certifie 
you that I have reseavcd your letter by 
your Brother in law Mr Joseph Newberrie 
and I understand that you have not re- 
seaved any letter from me I sent to you the 
last yere and divers letters before and never 



had noe retume : my brother John we have 
had no nuse from him since my Uncle was 
here It hath pleased God to set a great De- 
struction amongst us here in our land both 
in Church and State that men as the scrip- 
ture sath hath bin almost at there wits end 
for noe Turkish slavery can be worse than 
hath bin Inflicted over us we have bin 
robed and stript of all o\ir goods both with- 
in doorcs and without and leade away cap^ 
tive from house and harbor and like to 
suffer death but prayse god that he hath 
not given us over to the wiUs of our Ad- 
versari for then we had bin overwhelmed : 
Cozen soe it is we are removed from. Yeans 
to Wellington at Micklemas last and my 
ffather and mother doth live in the house 
that was my Uncles Chr Wollcott and I 
and my -wife dotji live with them my Uncle 
Wollcott is dead for 3 yeres since If your 
ffather or you plese to com over to dispose 
of what is here there may be sales men foimd 
but Estates doe goe at verie low value that 
formerly they have bin for since the Trubles 
did arise not any Estate was able to make 
good the charges that went out of it by a 
greate dcale one hundred pound in purse 
that could be saved to deale over hath bin 
more work then 2 Hundred pounds pr 
Annum I doe not goe to underwrite any 
thinge you have but I spcake really as you 
shall find if you come into England Cozen 
J£ you have any occasion to make use of 
me I shall be rcadic and willing to doe you 
the best service that lieth in my small 
power I have writen to you 2 other letters 
at this time desiringc to have Answeres 
from them as soone as may be soe in som 
hast and no lessc love I rest 
AUwaies your Loved Kinsman till Deaths 

Hugh Wollcott.* 
To my verie 
Lovinge Kinsman 
Jlenrie Wollcott 
Junior at Winsor 
in Connect icott 
in New EngUmd 
give these, 

Mr. Wolcott continued an honored reei^ 
dent of Windsor until his death, which 



1 The siMilliDg of the family name (as was ufoal in 
thoM dnys) waa Tery variable ; we find not leas than 
a dozen forms. It is giren three different ways, in 
the signature, the seal, and the superscription, of the 
same letter. The traditional pronunciation, in the 
family, of the penultimate Towel, gi?es it the sound 
ofo in Wolf. 



148 



Henry Woleott and Ms Children. 



[April, 



took place May 80, 16&5. His Will was 
dictated on the day of his death, and was 
proved October 4.* The inventory of his 
estate amounted (exclusive of property in 
England) to £764, 8s. lOd., — ^an illustra- 
tion of the fact, that many early adven- 
turers expended more in making settle- 
ments in Connecticut, than the property 
so improved was worth. 

♦'This year (1655)," says Trumbull, 
« died Henry Woleott, Esq., in the 78th 
year of his age. He was the owner of a 

1 It reads as follows : 

The last Will of Henry Woleott, late of Wind- 
tor, deceased, 

Tbs thirtieth of May, 1685, I, HiirftT Woloott, 
sick of body, but of perfect memory, do make and 
ordain this my last will and testament, in manner 
and form following. 

First. I commend my sonl to God my maker, 
hoping assuredly through the only merit of Jesus 
Christ my SaTiour, to he a partaker of llfie eTerlast- 
log ; and I commend my body to the earth, whereof 
it was made. 

I will that my wife shall hare all my house lot, 
orchard, g rden, hop-yard and my lot in Plymouth 
meadow, during the term of her natural life. Also, 
I giTe unto my wiie two of my cows, and half the 
household goods in my dwelling house. 

Also, I leave my land in England to Henry my 
eldest son , without encumbrances. Also, I give unto 
him my two books of martyrs. 

Also, I give to Christopher my second son, my lot 
la the Great meadow, — and also, my house lot and 
houseing upon it, after the death of my wife, he pay- 
ing out of it thirty pounds, after my wife's decease, 
as I shall hereafter appoint. 

Also, I glre to George my third son, the Ats 
pounds he owes me, and fiTe pounds more. 

Also, I gire to Simon, my younge«t son, all my 
land on the easterly side of the Great River and also 
my lot at Arramonets. 

Also, to the children of Henry, my eldest son, fiTe 
pounds to Henry the eldest of them, and to the rest 
of them forty shillings apiece. 

I gire all the rest of my goods to be equally diyided 
amongst all my children. 

Also, I appoint Henry Woleott, my son, to be 
'orerseer of thli^ my will and testament. 

Also, my will is, that Christopher, my son, shall 
•ha^e my lot In Plymouth meadow, alter the decease 
of my wife. 

My will is that my debts shall be first paid. 

October 4, 1685. The above written being 
testified to the Court by Mr. Henry Woleott, 
upon oath, and by Mr. Wicbfteld to be the 
last will and testament of Mr. Henry Woleott, 
senior, deceased, the Court approbated of the 
•MUM, and ordered it to be recorded. 

JOHX CvLUCK, Sicretary. 



good estate in Somersetshire, in England. 
His youth, it is said, was spent in gaiety 
and country pastimes; but afterwards, 
under the instructions of Mr. Edward 
Elton, his mind was entirely changed, and 
turned to the sincere love and practice of 
religion. As the Puritans were then 
treated with great severity, he sold about 
£8,000 worth of estate in England, and 
prepared for a removal into America.* 
He came into New England with Mr. 
Warham, in May 1630, and settled first 
at Dorchester, in Massachusetts. In 1636, 
he removed to Windsor, and was one of 
the principal planters of that town. He 
was chosen into the magistracy in 1643, 
and continued in it until his death. He 
left an estate in England, which rented at 
about £60 a year, which the family for 
some time enjoyed ; but was aft;erwards 
sold. After his decease, some one of his 
descendants was annually chosen into the 
magistracy, for a term of nearly eighty 
years. Some of them have been mem- 
bers of the Assembly, Judges of the Supe- 
rior Court, or magistrates, from the first 
settlement of the colony to this time, 
during the term of more than a century 
and a half.— A. D. 1797." 

Over the graves of Henry Woleott, 
and Elizabeth, his wife, there is an arched 
monument of brown stone, wrought by 
their son-in-law, Matthew Griswold ; the 
inscriptions being on the opposite sides : 

Here under lyeth the body of 
Henry Wolcot sometimes a Maies> 

TRATE of this JURISDICTION WHO 
DYED YE 30th DAY OF MaY 

*^vr^ ( SALUTIS 1655 

^^^^i^TATIS77 

Here under lyeth the body of 
Elizabeth Wolcot who dyed yk 
7th day of July 

SALUTIS 1655 



ANNO 



i 



iETATIS 73 



s On examining the MS. of Dr. Trumbull, depositod 
in the Library of Tale College, we dieeovered that 
the authority for his statement was a letter from 
OoT. Roger Woleott to the ReT. Mr. Prince, of Bos- 
ton, dated Aug. 15, 1764, to which there Is a refer- 
ence ; and on exami > g the remnant of Mr. Princess 
Library, we find that thb letter shared the fiats of 
most of its valuable manuscripts. 



1859.] 



Henry Wokotl and Ms Childrm. 



149 



Aroand it are the monaments of their 
children, and children's children. The 
cemetery lies in the rear of the First Con- 
gregational Charch, oh the high northern 
bank of Farmington River ; the railroad 
passes on its western side. Here these 
worthy Pilgrims and their companions in 
tribulation, and in the kingdom and 
patience of Jesus Christ, found a resting- 
place from their wanderings and toils; 
thej rest from their labors, and their 
works do fc^ow them. 

We add, from our ancient " Chrono- 
logie," the simple statement which follows 
the record of their death, and which is of 
more worth than all other history and 
eulogy,— 

** These both dyed in hope and Ly 
buryed under one Tomb in Windsor" 

The children of Henry and Elisabeth 
Wolcott were, 

I. John. He was baptized Oct 1, 
1607 ; was living in England in 16S1, and 
apparently never emigrated to America. 
He had died without issue previous to the 
date of his father's vrill, in 1655. The 
Family Record makes no mention of him. 

n. Anna. She came over with her 
sister and youngest brother, after the 
family had become settled. She married, 
Oct 16, 1646, Mr. Matthew Griswold, 
who resided in Windsor, and was a Dep- 
uty to the General Court He afterwards 
removed to Saybrook, in the capacity of 
Agent for Gov. Fenwick. He subse- 
quently purchased a large estate in 
Blackball, a pleasant part of Lyme, which 
has now been the seat of the Griswold 
family for more than two centuries. He 
gave the name to the town, of which he 
was the first inhabitant, in honor of Lyme 
Regis, the place of his nativity in Eng- 
land. He was a stone-cutter by trade, 
and wrought the tombstone of his father- 
in-law, Henry Wolcott He died at the 
age of 96 years, and was buried in Say- 
brook ; but his grave is unknown. 

HL Henry. He was born Jan. 21, 
1610 (O.S.) i.e., 1611 (N.S.)* He came 

1 He wag iLMCarof a «Aorf hand^ whleh has panlad 



with his parents, and was admitted a free- 
man by the General Court of Boston, 
April 1, 1634, which shows that he was at 
that time a member of the Dorchester 
Church. He removed, with the family, to 
Windsor, in 1636, where hp married, Nov. 
18, 1641, Sarah, daughter of Mr. Thomas 
Newberry. He was an importing mer- 
chant, and his ledger has been preserved. 
He appears to have been in England, on 
business, in the spring of 1654. He was 
engaged in public life, and held various 
appointments. He was one of the nine- 
teen gentlemen prominent in the Colony, 
who were named in the Charter of Con- 
necticut. He was elected a member of 

OS in Bereral docamaDta, and to which wa did soft 
imagine that any liey could erer ba found. Among 
tha papert deposited in tlie Library of the Conn. 
Hiatorlcal Society, some years since, was a stout lit- 
tle tellum-coTered volume of nearly 400 pages, 
closely written in this hand, with no clue to the sub- 
ject nor to the writer's name. It lay unnoticed 
until a little more than a year ago, when it attracted 
the attention of J. Hammond Trumbull, Esq., who is 
as ingenious in such matters as he is perwrering in 
his researches. He succeeded in deciphering it, and 
found it to consist of notes of sermons and lectures, 
delirered in Windsor and Hartford, between April, 

1688, and Hay« 1641, in regular course. The writer*s 
name is not giren, but his birthday is noted on the 
first leaf of the volume, and this and other facta 
identify him as Henry Wolcott, Jr. ; a&d it is a curi- 
ous foct that the only record of his birth is found 
among these hieroglyphics, and the date has been 
unknown till now. 

These notes g^?e the dates, texts, and general out- 
lines of the discourses of the Rer. Messrs. Warham 
and Huit, in Windsor, and of the Rer. Messrs. 
Hooiier and Stone, in Hartford, during the sessions 
of the Qeneral and Particular Courts. Among the 
former is one delivered by Mr. Warham, Nov. 17, 
1640, ^'at the betrothing of Benedict Alvortl and 
Abraham Randall," from the text, Eph. 6 : 11, *< Put 
on the whole armor of Qod, that ye may be able to 
st«nd agHlDSt the wiles of the de? 11." The preacher 
'^ improved " the theme, ^* for teaching the betrothed 
lovers that marriage is a tcar-faring condition," and 
** for reproof to those who think nothing is needed for 
marriage but the consent of the parents." In the 
face of these solemn admonitions, it appears from 
the Windsor records that both were duly married 
before the expiration of the year-— the happy Bene- 
diet to Joan Newton, and the other to Mury Ware. 

Among the latter discourses, are Mr. Hooker's two 
Election Sermons^ of May 31, 1683, and April 11, 

1689. Of the first, from the text. Dent. 1 : 18, Mr. 
Trumbull gives an ab:itract, of deep interest, as show- 
ing the ^^ politics '* which were preached by the 
ablest and l)cst of the Puritan Fathers. 



160 



Hearg WolcMtmdhis CUldren. 



[Apbii^ 



the Home of I>ep«tie0 in 1660, and n 
member of the Hotuw of Magbtarates in 
1662, and sacceauvely after until his 
death. In 1669 the General Assembly 
made him a grant of 800 acres of land. 
He died July 12, 1680. His widow died 
July 16, 1684. Her wardrobe, an inven* 
tory of which exists among the family 
papers, and is a curiosity, was appraised 
at nearly £100 steriing. 

IV. George. He was made a free- 
man by the General Court of Connecti- 
cut, May 21, 1657. He settled in Weath- 
ersfield, and married Elizabeth Treat 
His history is more obscure than that of 
his brothers. 

V. Christopher. The family home- 
stead in Windsor was bequeathed to him 
by his father. He died, unmarried, Sept 
7, 1662. By his will nuncupative, his 
estate was divided among his brothers and 
sisters, Henry receiving the larger share. 

YI. Mary. She married, June 25, 
1646, Job Drake, of Windsor. She and 
her husband died, the same day. Sept 16, 
1649. 

VII. Simon. He was bom about the 
year 1625. He was admitted a freeman 
in 1654. He married, (1st) March 19, 
1656-7, Joanna, daughter of Aaron Cook, 
one of the first settlers of Windsor. Their 
married life was brief; she died April 27, 
1 65 7, at the age of 1 8 years. He married, 
(2d} Oct 17, 1661, Martha Pitkin, de- 
scribed in the Windsor Records as ^ late 
from England." She was the «ster of 
Mr. William Pitkin, of East Hartford, 
Attorney General and Treasurer of the 
Colony. She is represented to have been 
a superior lady, having received an ac- 
complished education in England. In an 
obituary notice of one of her sons, pub- 
lished in 1767, she is described as "a 
woman of eminent good sense, virtue, and 
piety.*' She is said to have come on a 
visit to her brother, and been induced to 
remain by the marriage proposal which 
she received, which was backed by the 
urgent wishes of some of the leading Col- 
onists. 



A few yean after this marriage, Mr. 
Simon Wolcott sold his4>lace in Windsor, 
and purchased a farm in Simsbury, to which 
he removed. His name appears on the 
Simsbury Records, as commander of the 
train-band, and selectman. It proved an 
unfortunate investment, as the settlers 
were driven from the place by the Indians 
in 1676, and his property was destroyed. 
He remained a few years in Windsor, and 
in 1680 settled on his land on the East side 
of the Connecticut River, in the present 
town of South Windsor. He died in 
1687, and was buried in Windsor Church 
yard. His death was hastened by 
gloomy anticipations of the oppression 
and suffering which awaited the Colonists 
under the coming administration of Sir 
Edmund Andross, — ^fears which, as the 
result proved, were not wholly groundless. 
His widow married, in 1689, Mr. David 
Clark, one of the leading men in the 
Colony; she died in 1719.^ 

From Simon and Martha Wolcott have 
sprung those of the family who were sub- 
sequently most known in the annals of 
Connecticut; three of their descendants 
in the male line, in successive generations, 
and others in collateral lines, have been 
called to the Governor's Chair.* 

1 Tbe followiog are copies of their epitapha : 

Hera lyes waiting 

fbr ye retorraotioD 

of the Just thfi body of 

Mr BiKON WOLOOR 

who dyed Septcm 

ye 11th 1687 aged 

62 years. 

Hera lyeth sleep 

ing in Jesus ye Bo 

dy of Mes Mak 

THA Class Alies 

Wolcott who 

Died Octr ye 13 

1719 Aged 80 Tears. 

[From Old South Windsor Oborch Yard.] 

* Among the QoTernors of ConneeUcut here re- 
ferred to, are Rooss WoLcott, Oliysb Wolcott, the 
elder, Ourxs Wolcott, the younger, Hatthsw 
QsnwoLD, the second, Roass Osi8wou», and Wil- 
UAK Woloott Kllswostb. SeTersi of the fiunlly 
hate been Judges, and have held other ollloes of dril 
trust. The writer of this article appean to rapreeent 
the clergy almost alone ; and his eocleslastical pedi- 
gree is, perhaps, to be traced through his mother, 
(Rachel M.,) who was the youngest daughter of the 
BeT. Dr. MeClnra, of Eist Windsor, and the grand- 
danghter of the Bsv. Dr. PomMoy, af Hehiwi. 



1869. J CongregaUonoMsm in Western New York. 151 



CONGREGATIONALISM IN WESTERN NEW YORK.* 

BT RET. JAMES H. DILL, BPENCERFORT, N. T. 

Rev. James H. Hotchkin has pub- been Congregational; and 160, — two- 

lished a work entitled ** A History of fifths of the 896 surviving churches — now 

Western New York, and of the Presby- report themselves as Congregational 

terian Church in that Section," a volume churches. 

of six hundred pages ; a book which has Notwithstanding these facts, which one 

its merits and its defects. The main drift who undertakes to set forth the ascendan- 

of bis ecclesiastical history is, the ascen- dancy of Presbyterianism over Congrega- 

dancy there of Presbyterianism over-Con- tionalism ought to have ascertained, he 

gregationalism. heads each of the fifteen chapters of 

How far his title page is justified by the churches with the name of a certain Pres- 
contents of his book, may be judged l^ bytery, and calls Congregational churches 
the following facts : In several chapters Presbyterian. Of the Church in Holley, 
he gives an account of the early settlers, he says, ** at what period the Presbyterian 
most of whom were New Englanders, and Church was oi^anized is not known to 
Congregational in their preferences ; of the writer." He might have added ** and 
Uie early missionaries, missionary socie- never will be." . In fact, he tells us con- 
ties, ministers, churches, and ecclesiastical ceming Congregational churches con- 
bodies, most of which were Congregation- nected with Presbytery, that " these 
al ; and of the early revivals, the con- churches are in all respects Presbyterian, 
spicuous laborers in which were Congre- with the exception that their sessions 
gational ministers. A large part of his consist of the body of the brethren of 
book is, in fact, a history of Congrega- competent age, instead of a bench of el- 
tionalism in Western New York, of which ders, chosen for the purpose of govem- 
he gives no hint on his title page, and ment, and set apart by certain formalities." 
which he uses as a convenient back- As if one should say that a square is in 
ground from which to set forth a Presby- all respects a circle, except wherein it 
terian figure. differs from it The radical idea of Pres- 

Still further : In fifteen, out of his thirty- byterianism is eldership — the govem- 

six chapters, he gives an account of 436 ment of elders. The radical idea of 

churches, and although he is very careful, Congregationalism is the brotherhood — 

when he can, to tell us ** this church was government by the membership, 
organized as a Presbyterian church," yet From such an inaccurate history, based 

there are not 100, of the 436, which he on such mistaken conceptions, and convey- 

tells us were so organized. Forty of the ing so unfair an impression — which ought 

original number are extinct Records to be corrected by a volume of equal size 

show that about 200 have at some time — ^I proceed to give a brief notice of 

"T"— -— -—— -- — : Congregationalism in Western 

1 Thle Articltf u the subRtance of an addresf pro- ^r tr 

wmtieed by Rer. Jameii H. Dill, before the General -NEW YORK. I shall take the same bouu- 

AtMdaeion of New Tork, at its Quarter Ceotarj daries as Mr. Hotchkin. At the early pe- 

Meeting at Rorhetter, Sept. 22, 1868. The Address, ^^^ \^ ^^Jch our history commences, 1 790, 

•omewbat enlarged and with additional notes, is ,„ -^.t -«r i i « i .i 

pnbiuhed in a pamphlet form, concurrently with the Western New York comprehended the 

preMnt dat« ; and may be had of the author. mOSt of the State west of the liudson 



152 



OmgregatiomXmn in Weriem New York. [Afbo^ 



BiTer. l%ii hiitorj is divided into three 
marked periods, which I shall designate 
respectively as thk rise, the decline, 
AND THE REVIVAL of the Congregational 
interest in this section. 

L The Rise and EstMiskment of Con- 
ffregational Churches in this Region; from 
1790 to about 1815. 

This land was originally granted by the 
mother country to the Colonies of New 
England. The conflicting claims of New 
York and Massachusetts to this territory 
were settled by the grant of pre-emption 
right on the part of New York, to the 
State of Manachusetts. This pre-emp- 
tion right was purchased of Massachusetts 
by New England men, Messrs. Phelps 
and Gorham ; and by them the Indian 
title to a large portion of the soil was ex- 
tingubhed ; so that it was at an early day 
advertised and offered for sale in New 
- England, in exchange for cultivated farms. 
The richness and the beauty of this region 
had been reported throughout the East 
by the returned soldiers of Gen. Sullivan's 
army, and their statements, together with 
the efforts of Messrs. Phelps and Grorham, 
soon awakened a strong desire among the 
New England farmers to exchange their 
rocky fields for the fertile plains of the 
West. Hence most of the early settlers 
of this region were New Englanders, and 
brought with them their New England 
preferences. 

As in every new country, so in this, the 
establishment and character of religious 
institutions depend not only on the pre- 
ferences of the settlers, but on the insti- 
tutions of those Christians at the East 
who care for them. At that early day, 
all those missionary societies which sent 
missionaries into this region were Congre- 
gational bodies, with the single exception 
of the General Assembly's Board of Mis- 
sions ; and previous to 1814 the old Mis- 
sionary Society of Conn^ticut performed 
threefold more labor here, than that Board. 
Of those New England bodies which sent 
missionaries here, there were the General 
Association of Connecticut, commencing 



aseariy as 1788; the Connecticut Mis- 
sionary Society, organized in 1798, and 
previous to 1814 expending labor equal 
to that of one minister for twen^ yean ; 
the Boston Missionary Society, organized 
1787; the Massachusetts Missionary So- 
ciety, 1799; Berkshire and Columbia 
Missionary Society, 1798; New Hamp- 
shire Missionary Society, 1801 ; and the 
Hampshire Missionaiy Society, 1802. 

These Congregational Societies con- 
centrated their efforts on this then re- 
cently opened wilderness, while as yet the 
other societies, which after 1814 labored 
here, and into which the Pred)3rterian 
element entered, had not come into exist- 
ence. The Domestic Missionaiy Society 
was not organized until 1816 ; the United 
Domestic Missionary Society in New 
York City, not until 1824 ; and the Am- 
erican Home Missionary Society not until 
1826. 

As the first settlers were from New 
England} and, with the mngle exception 
named, the first missionary societies which 
cared for them, Congregational, so were 
the first missionaries, the first churches 
organized, the first ministers settled, the 
first ordinations, installations, and ecdes- 
iastioal bodies here, CongregationaL All 
this is conceded by Mr. Hotchkin. 

In 1812, there were extending over the 
whole territory then settled, and some- 
what east of it, the following Congrega- 
tional Associations, embracing most of the 
churches and ministers in Western New 
York : 

An Association in the vicinity of Sara- 
toga, and the Morris County Associated 
Presbytery in the northern part of New 
Jersey, which Mr. Hotchkin says was 
Congregational in its principles and prac- 
tice. " Subsequently," he says, " on ac- 
count of the increase of the body in the 
number of its ministers and churches, a 
division took place, and the Westchester 
Associated Presbytery was organized; 
which Associated Presbyteries for a time 
embraced a large number of ministers 
and churches in the lower counties of 



1859.] 



J*. _»• 




^1 t'> 'n.'i 



m Western Ifm York. 



163 



New York, and adjacent parts of New 
Jersey." The Northern Asociated Pres- 
bytery; the Black RiTer Association; 
the Oneida Association, occupying the 
eastern portion of what is here regarded 
as Western New York ; the Middle Asso- 
ciation, occupying the middle portion; 
tlie Ontario Association, occupying the 
western portion ; the Union Association, 
Ibrmed from the Oneida ; and the Sus- 
quehanna, or Lozeme Association, occu- 
pying the southern portion, bordering on 
and extending into PennsyWania. 

These associations, with their ministers 
and churches, had the ground ; and there 
was every reason and prospect, fitxn pur- 
chase, settlement, pre-occupancy, cultiva- 
tion, and thorough Oiganiaation, that 
Western New York would become as 
characteristically Congregational as New 
Englaiyl.^ 

The entire number of Congregational 

> ThcM Coogxvfitioiiml AnoeUtloiii wert largt 
bodlM of miniaton and ehorohcf , orgaalMNl to mcot 
tho wantf of th« ohorehM aod minifltcrt aliwdj on 
tho groond, whilt, m thm followiog UeU will Khow, 
tbo lioe of Pratbjrterlct which wat thrott oat into 
thia tarritory wat, bj mioate sabdiTltloo, on tho 
ehnreh extendon plan, and f6r ehorehM which tlicy 
oalj hoped ro havo. It was a dooominational moTo- 
nent, natira to tba •ystam, and wholly ft»«ign to 
the •jftam on which it encroachad. 

In 1802 we find the PrMbjtery of Albany eootain- 
iag 14 miniaten. Tlte aame year, as the Minntea of 
the General Aaeembly tell vs, the Presbytery of Al- 
bany was diTided into thiee bodies, tIs : the Presby- 
tery of Albany, the Presbytery of Colombia, and the 
Presbytery of Oneida; **to which dirislon,** they 
tall OS, **they were partlenlarly Infloenced by the 
presnare of eirenoutances." The Prssbyteiy of 
Oneida, Uien embraced all the territory of the State 
ef New TorIc, west of Otsego and Herltimer eoantlea, 
and had not, at its organisation, a single ehoreh In 
Western New York connected with It, and bat two 
ministers resident in that territory. The next year, 
1808, these three Presbyteries were constltated a 
Synod— the Synod of Albany. In 1806, the Prssby- 
tery of Oneida was dlrided, and the Presbytery of 
Genera set ap, embracing all New Torlc west of Oneida 
and Ohenango coantles, hot baring only fbar minis- 
Isrs connected with it, and In 1800 only eight Pres- 
byterian ministers coooeeted with It In 1810, the 
Presbytery of OencTa and the Middle Association, 
which had Joined the Albany Synod, were dirided 
Into the Presbyteries of Geneva, Oi^aga, and Onon- 
daga, and In 1811, they were eenstUated a Synod— 
the Synod of Geneva. 



VOL. I. 



80 



ministers and chnrches embraeed in tibsM 
associations, I have not at present tlie 
means of stating. I find record, howevert 
of 19 Congregational churches organised 
previous to 1800, and of 60 others organ- 
ised previous to 1815 ; while on the same 
ground I find no record of more than 88 
Presbyterian churches organised before 
1815, and of only four more before 1800 ; 
and so strong were the early tendencies 
to Congregationalism, that these four 
churches, viz: Binghampton, Elmira* 
Lima, and Lakeville, oiganised by a mis- 
sionary of the General Assemblylb Board 
in 1 795, were resuscitated or re-organised 
as Congregational churches. 

From this picture of prosperity, we 
turn 

IL To a Period of Deelime, which Mr. 
Hotchkin sets forth. Look, first, at the 
focts indicating, and secondly, at the 
causes bringing about, this decline of tha 
Congregational interest 

The Ontario Association, the Middle 
Association, the Union Association, and 
ihe Susquehanna, have become dissolved; 
the most of the Congregational ministers 
have joined Presbytery; many of the 
chnrches have been accommodated with 
a seat in Presbytery, and some of the 
churches have adopted the Presbyterian 
form of government. 

These associations did not dwindle and 
die from lack of numbers and life, bnt 
became absorbed by several foeble Prea> 
byteries — seven lean kine swallowing the 
seven fot kine — and Presbyterianism sud- 
denly bringing itself into foil and rounded 
proportions. 

Several causes may be enumerated as 
conspiring to bring about the absorption 
of Congr^ational churches and ministers 
into Presbyterianism, which marks the 
second period of our history. The Plan 
of Union, formed in 1801, between the 
General Assembly and the General Asso- 
ciation of the State of Connecticut,— a 
plan of union which, when abrogated by 
the General Assembly in 1837, was justly 
pronounced **nneonstitutionaloatliepa^ 



ISA 



(htigregtikmlimn m Wukm Nm Tmrh [Amb» 



ol 41m AmbUj, and totally daslilate of 
antfaority as proceading from the General 
Afrialion of Connecticaty which had no 
paver to kgblate in such cases, and 
espadally lo enact laws regulating 
ctorehes not within her linuts." This 
l^lan of onion dissuaded CongregationaUstB 
ia the new setdeDients from eariTing 
oat their prefiBrenoes in the organiza- 
tion of churches, and, in its 4th Article, 
offered to Congregational churches the 
bait of a seat in Presbytery. As the 
lesnlt of this, many Congregational 
olmrches^Te been taken in. 
. At a meeting in Geneva, in 1808 or 
1805, of a newly erected Presbjrtery, a 
flseeting consisting of three ministers and 
seven elders, the following question was 
discussed, and decided in the affirmative : 
^ Can the Presbytery consistently Receive 
aa a oonstitaent member of their body a 
■iaisfeer belonging to an Association, 
without his discontinuing his connection 
with the Association?" << This decision," 
iays Mr. Hotohkiny *'was approved by 
Synod, and the principle was considered 
as established." ** At the present time," 
he says, ^'it would be considered by most 
ecclesiastical bodies as an incorrect de- 
dtton. But whether the decision of this 
question by Presbytery was correct, or 
otherwi8e,Jt undoubtedly laid the founda- 
tion for the preponderance of the Presby. 
terian interest, which eveniually prev- 
ailed in Western New Yoric" 

Ko doubt it did. The small Presby- 
teries were anxious for members, and it 
doubtless seemed perfectly consistent with 
the plan of union made by the G^eral 
Assembly which accommodated Congre- 
gational churches with a seat in Presby- 
tery, while they retained their Congrega- 
tional government, for the Presbytery to 
accommodate their ministers with a seat 
m Presbytery, while they still retained 
their connection with a Congregational 
Association. Had the Associations of 
that day been equally accommodating, 
and their Presbyterian brethren equally 
I, they asight easily have ab* 



sorbedtkePiesbyteiaasb AftertlMpmk 
ciple was establfahed, and the meetiags of 
Presbytery were swoUen by the laiga 
accession of Congregational aaeasben^ 
there was fi»lt to be a difficulty among the 
ministers abont atte n d ing so many annual 
meetings as were provided fiv by Aaso- 
dations and Presbyteries, aad ai tha 
result, the Associations were diaolved. 

But there was another step taken in 
the progress of the {diaat and absorbing 
Ptesbyterianismofthatday. The Synod 
of Albany, in 1808, accdmmodated tha 
Middle Awsociation of miaisteia and 
churches entire, with a seat in Synod, aa 
constituent members thereol^ *< assuring 
them," as Mr. Hotchkin says, **of liia 
cheerfulness of the Synod to leave their 
churches undisturbed in the adminia- 
tration of their own govemmenti until 
they, should be better acquain<te(^ witli 
the Presbyterian mode, and voluntarily 
adopt it" No doubt this was a cheerfbl 
time, — ^receiving an accession of 17 min- 
isters, and more churches. Thb action 
was laid before the General Assembly at 
its next meeting, and by them approved. 
The Presbytery had acted, the Synod 
had acted, and now the Greneral 
bly, in 1810, divides up the Middle 
sociation into three Presbyteries ; and so 
the Middle Association disappears 

The frdlure of an effort, in 1810, to 
form a Greneral Association, worked a 
decline of the Congregational interest. 
Feeling the need of such a bond of union 
as was provided in New England by the 
State Associations, a Convention was 
called, and assembled on the first Thuie- 
day of July, 1810, in Clinton, Oneida 
County, to consider the expediency of 
forming such an Association, and if 
deemed best, to take such initiatoiy 
steps as should be necessary. This Con- 
vention was attended by Bev. Messrs. 
James H. Hotchkin, John Niles, and H. 
R. Powell, delegates from Ontario Asso- 
ciation, and by others from Oneida, Black 
Biver, Union, Luaeme, and Sarataga 
Associations, and from the NerthaMi Ai^^ 



1669.] Oongrtgaiiomlum m Watlem Nem Turk. 



1€5 



nttiii|^ flOfliiNjii^ly lofwards ui 
eal vnioii witii the Fked>jteriaiifl, that no 
aeliai wm tdcen, and the ConTention 
WW dianlTed. ^ The resolt of the meet- 
ing of tiui CoDTention/' Mr. Hotchkin 
Mji, ^ vndoiditedly hastened the union of 
tiie Gongr^donal miniflten and church- 
ei widi the Pr Mb yt e rian Church." 

The process of absorption went on. 
Thm Prasbyterianim of that day was 
vwy aoeoounodadng. It did not go by 
tiie Book; and since the Congregational- 
isli «w bow ready they were, from Pree- 
bytny up to Assembly, to make any 
Mcrifice of their principles of ecdesiasdf 
est goremment; since, they saw Congre- 
gational clrarohes, and members of Asso- 
ciiitioBS, welcomed into Synod, and mem- 
bert of their churches on the floor of 
General Assembly ; and since they then, 
m nom^ sjrmpathized in doctrinal faith, 
tiiey had some reason for thinking that 
P k ^byt eriamsm would soon become 
aitqgct h er accommodated to the Congre- 
gational syrtem. But time proTes that 
tiiey .reckoned without dieir host, and did 
not oonsider the difference between the 
genius of Presbyterianism and that of 
C on g regationalism, nor the difference 
between Presbyterianism weak and Pres- 
byterianism strong. 

The Presbyterians had now secured 
to themselTes the most of the large cen- 
tral churches along the track to the more 
western p(»*tions of the State. New 
settlers and new ministers came under a 
Presbyterian influence in passing through 
New York, Albany, Utica, Auburn, and 
Greneva; or Binghampton and £lmira. 
The Presbyterian element had entered 
into Hqpe Missionary Societies in New 
York. A Presbyterian Theological Sem- 
inary was established in Auburn, sending 
out its candidates for the ministry. The 
rtligioos newspapers which circulated 
among the churches were Presbyterian ; 
tlie agents which risited them, Presbyte- 
rian. Tlie old Connecticut Missionary 

its missionariet 



fiom tins field, and neiidmg tlMoi furAsf 
west; and misrepresentatiotts of the 
people of Western New York, and of the 
Coi^gregatiottal churches and ministm 
there, were studiously and conataotiy 
made by men who visited New £n^and ; 
that die population of Western New 
York was not sufficiently homogeneooi^ 
intelligent and princi|ded to be organized 
into Congregational churches ; tibat while 
it would do TOiy well for New £ng!and, 
the people here needed a stronger gov- 
ernment; and moreorer, it was whispered 
that Congregational churches and mini^ 
ters out here, (meaning those that would 
not join Presbytery,) were rery different 
fitmi what they were in New England ; 
that they were irregular in doctrine and 
in order. So diligently, and so long were 
diese slanders pp& the people and on the 
Congregationalism of Western New Yoik 
circulated in New England, that af^r a 
while, and for some years, a sentiment 
was formed in the more conserratiTe 
minds, that the people here were lit- 
tle less than barbarians, and that tbose 
Congregationalists who would not coalesce 
with Presbyterians were of a degenerate 
sort 

Such slanders did their work, and fbr 
a time served their purpose. But now 
that the minds of New Englanders are 
disabused of them, and have come to un- 
derstand the nondescript ecdesiasdeal 
system, and absorbing motive, from which 
they emanated, they are slowly, but sure- 
ly, working out their retribution. Radi« 
cally different as are these two systems of 
church government, admitting no natural 
ecclesiasdcal union, yet there is no neces- 
sity for conflict between them. Both are 
one in doctrine. The field is wide enough* 
for alL Each system has its own radical 
idea of ecclesiasiasttcal policy. Let each 
be foitbful to itself, and not sacrifice its 
standard of professed principles for the 
sake of absorbing the other, and there 
will be no cause for conflict We con- 
cede to Presbyterians many excellencies 
and good works as a Christian denomina- 



166 



OmfpregMmafum in Western Ntm Ycri. [Afbq^ 



Hob. latibarptwpenfefire rqoioe, and 
]N»)r for thair inemae. . 

I liave enmDentod the caiues which 
iporiced in this ragioD a decline of the 
Ooa gi a ga t i oiial and an ascendancy of the 
Fk«ab3rterian interest They are matters 
af history. Time will bring them fhlly to 
Gght^-Hnft them, and disi^prove of many 
ef tiiem. The same experiment will 
sever be repeated. Never again will 
Congregational Christians yield to them, 
nor Presbyterian Christians try theoL 
Until that day axriTes, when all denomi- 
nations shall cease among Christians — 
which certainly is not now, nor desirable 
in the present ^rpe of Christianity — Con- 
gragatiooalists will be Congregationalists, 
Presbjrtorians will be Presbyterians, and 
love each other all the more for it The 
denominational plan of anion aims to 
lemove all diversities, and shape aU into 
one on its Procrustean bed. The Divine 
plan of anion aims to unite all in heart 
and living work, by nniting all in heart 
to God. Neither the New Testament 
nor Congr^;ationalism knows anything of 
Ike Churchy in the sense of a denomina- 
tion or sect T%e Church is either a local 
Church, or the whole body of believers 
throughout the worid. 

We turn now to our final topic in this 
sketch, via : the present 

IIL Period of Revival of the Congre- 
gational interest in Western New York. 
It sounds strangely, at the present day, to 
hear Western New Ycftk applied to 
territory further east than Canandaigua ; 
yet at an eariy day this phrase designated 
neariy the entire Stete. I will therefore 
give briefly the statistics for the State, 
leaving it to others who may follow to 
present more local focts. 

This General Association is made up 
of delegates from twelve District Associa- 
tions. These District Associations, viz: 
Oneida, Black River, Essex, St Law- 
rence, Western New Toric, Long Island, 
New York and Brooklyn, Ontario, Sns- 
qnehanna, Albany, the Puritan Aasocia- 
tioD of Allegany and Wyoming, and the 



Delaware Aasoeiatkwi, haw c o n n ected 
with them 187 churches and 191 miniatoa. 
Besides these associated churches, there 
are in the State about one hundred Con- 
gregational churches, which are not 
represented in any ecclesiast ic al body, 
and about 126 Congr^;ational churches 
connected with Presbytery; makittg in 
all more than 400 Congregational church- 
es now in our Stete. 

There is such a habit in certain quar- 
ters of calling our churches PreBbyterian^ 
and the stetistics published annually with 
the Minutes of the New General Aaseaa- 
bly, so rarely acknowledge the Congre- 
gational polity of many of the churches 
connected with them, that the entire 
number of Congregational churches can- 
not well be ascertained, without a tho- 
rough canvassing of the State. Taking 
the churches reported by the State 
Census of 1855 as Congregational, in 
connection with the canvass made in 
1854 by our Stete Association, and our 
own statistics, we make out about 425 
churches now administering their internal 
affairs on the Congregational principle of 
government On the same territory, the 
New General Assembly report tiiis year 
546 churches, which report includes, as 
no uninitiated person could imagine, 
about 125 Congregational churcbee, 
which fact taken into consideration, shows 
that the number of Congregational 
churches in our State, is not fiir from 
that of the New School Presbyterian, 
there being about 425 of each. 

Rochester is surrounded by Congre- 
gational churches: Brighton, Faiiport, 
Victor, Pittsford, East and West Bloom- 
6eld, Chili, Chun:hville, Riga, Bergen, 
two churches ; Henrietta, Greece. Spen- 
cerport, Clarkson, Holley, Millville, and 
Barre; and what are the now Presby- 
terian churches of Ogden, Brockport, 
Wheatland, Medina, Byron, Genesee, 
Le Roy, and others which might be 
named, but those which have been spirit- 
ed away fnm Congregationalism ?^ 



1859.] Congr^atiom^um in Wedem New York. 



167 



It is an eTidence of the deep-rooted 
hold which the Congr^ational system 
took in the soil of this State, that so many 
Congregational churches now exist in our 
State, and that so many of them, having 
Presb3rterian ministers, and connected 
with Presbytery, and with so many Pres- 
byterian agents circulating among them, 
haTe still retained their internal Congre- 
gational policy. 

This reviving of the Congregational 
system has been marked by the with- 
drawal of churches from Presbytery, and 
the establishment of new churches in the 
chief cities. The noble Church in Roch- 
ester, and others in Syracuse, Oswego, 
Albany, Owego, Elmira, Binghampton, 
Brooklyn, and New York City, are wit- 
nesses that the sons of New England 
among our people, have not ceased to love 
the free religious institutions of their 
Others. 

Time ibrbids me, and a residence of 
bnt a few years in the State has not qual- 
ified me, to develope, with any complete- 
ness, the causes which have worked the 
increase of Congregational interest of the 
present day. It is felt here ; it is felt 
throughout the West ; it is felt throughout 
New England. There might be men- 
tionedy among the operating causes, the 
organisation of this General Association 
of New York ; ^ the disruption of the 

SAhool Pretbjrtarians, when the tables are tamed oa 
them, mod an effort Is made to turn their charches 
ever to the Old School, see a remonstraore of mem. 
ben of OnUrlo Prrsbjiery, (N. 8.,) written '* to the 
aJnttfters and laymen of the Synod of Buffalo," (0. 
8.,)cone«mlnf the Church at Genetieo,and pubilnhed 
la the New York Svangells t, December 'c8, 1868. 

Mr. Hotehkin says of tliis Church, page 672 : " In 
ISOd, a number of the members of the Church " 
(Church of LakcTlUe,) ** who were emigrants from 
Oonaecticat, being dlssarisfled with the order of the 
Chnreh and Its pastor, requested letters of dismission, 
to form a Congregational Church. Their case was 
brought before the Presbytery of Genera, aod on the 
adrke of that body, tlielr request was granted, and 
tbaj were suberquently organised as a Congregation- 
al Chun:h, by Rer. Daniel Oliver, a missionary from 
Maasachttsetto. This i« the Church which has sue- 
nesirinn in the present Church of Geneseo. 

1 Oneida AsioeiatioD, at Its meeting in Lebanon, 
r, 1S88) Appointod Bev. Maain. Pindnr 



Pzesbyterian ehnrch, in 188 7, and the 
discussion which it originated ; the rising 
spirit of freedom in our land, and opposi* 
tion to complication with Slavery ; a bet* 
ter acquaintance and deeper 83rmpathy 
between Congregationalists in and out of 
New England ; publication of facts con- 
cerning the working of the Plan of Union ; 
a returning wave from Congregationalismi 
established in more Western States ; the 
establishment of Congr^ational newspa- 
pers in New England, in New York City, 
and in the West ; the increase of a de- 
nominational spirit among the New-School 
Presb^rterians ; and the meeting, in 1862, 
of the Albany Convention, which estab- 
lished the Church and Building Fund, 
exposed the perversion and disuse of the 
Plan of Union, and ratified its repudiation 
by Presbyterians — a Convention com^ 
posed of 461 ministers and laymen, of 
which number 802 were from New Eng- 
land. These were some of the influences 
which have worked the reaction from de- 
cline, and the reviving of Congregational 
interest which marks the third and pres- 
ent period of our history in Western 
New York. 

We have briefly noticed the Rise, the 
Decline, and the Revival of the Congre- 
gational interest in New York. The na- 
ture and complications of the case have 
compelled a reference to the movements 
of another denomination — a denomina- 
tion which is loved next to our own ; 
whose great excellencies we see and ad- 
mire, but for whose faults we have no 
more respect than for our own. 

The government and polity of Chris- 
tian Churches, is one of subordinate but 
of real importance. This all denomina- 
tions concede. To deny it, is to accuse 
onesself of ignorance or duplicity. The 
ecclesiastical polity of different orders of 

Field and E. D. Ualtbie, a committee to call a Coo- 
ventlon of Congregational Ulnbter^ and Delegates 
from Conpregatlonal Churches, to organise a State 
Association ; which Convention, consisting of mini*- 
ters and laymen, met at Clinton, May 21, 1884, P. 
neld, Moderator, E. D Maltble, Scribe, and oigao- 
iMd itself Into the Gentnl Awociatton of New York. 



m 



wnKtimtMKDMi nHUliBBOflv MIBHMttBdt QHHI^ 

My mmtkedt mI irorkad In an open 
Gkrktian ipiiit» Hks fences ftr oor fium 
and npanto Iwtiaes fer oar fiunilieii pro- 
■MitM tone OhrirtiMi anian,— a union 
indii as was pragnad te by cm Sanoar, 
Jahn, smi: 81 ; trae Ohnstian anions aris- 
ing fixin the union of tlia heart to Qod, 
iSke Fatber and the Son ; a nnion not bf , 
but in ^nto of denominations; a onion 
whose strengtib and ^^ory are illnstrated 
bj the diTonities winch prevail among 
those who an all united in heart; the 
oolgr Divine and feasible plan of anion 
fer all Chxistiaos on the earth. And 
when we read in tfie New Testament the 
polity of A|iostolie ohwehes; read in 



A Lemm frmtL tik PuL 



{f^asL, 



pesfeoe and ncolesiasHnil UskMPf tiie 
pslifyof the ptinutiTe chnfches,— intar- 
nallj demooratio, and exftssnally fraternal 
bnt independent* — we fed n Christian 
attaehment to oor systeoL And when 
we read that oor Pilgrtm iMwrs left 
(Nd Engiandt not beoanse tiwy differed 
from her Church in doctrine, bnt ham 
its unscriptnral and intolerant politgr* and 
that they made their sacrifices ferfr«e-> 
dom of Chureh gofemnient and wonihip ; 
the blood of the Pilgrian in onr veins 
dirabs up from Christian heaxts, in new 
devotion to the simplidfy and eflkiencyy 
the freedom and independence of Congre- 
gational Churches. 



A LBSSON FBOM THE PAST : 

THE OLD WAY OF SUPPORTINa MINISTEES. 



ST SSV. JOSBPH 8. OLA.UK, D.D. 



NoTHXNa pertaining to the externals 
of religion has more to do with its inte- 
rior life, than the adequate support of its 
ministers. Moses understood this, when, 
in obedience to tlie divine commandi he 
made such liberal provisions for the 
priesthood under the Levitical code. Our 
Pilgrim Fathers understood this, when, 
^>llowiag an impulse hardly less divine, 
they adopted a style of ministerial su|>- 
port almost as liberal The world knows 
what a prominent part was acted by Puri- 
tan divines in colonising New England, 
and what influence they had in moulding 
its character. But the worid does not so 
generally know what ** encouragement " 
(that was the word used in early times to 
denote ministerial support,) the people 
gave them. Through this single word 
there is let in light enough, at least, to 
show how mistaken those are who think 
that the early Congregational ministers of 
New England lived on a starving salary ; 
which, scant as it was, the Sheriff was 
obliged to ferce from reluctant tax^payen 



by legal distraint What a mockery to 
have called this an encouragemnU 1 I£^ 
at intervals, they lapsed into such a neg- 
lectful mood, as they certainly did in 
seasons of temptation, a review of the 
consequences may be *' profitable fer cor> 
rection," as our contemplation of the 
opposite will be equally so fer ** instmo- 
tion in righteousness." 

It is not known what the Plymouth 
people paid Elder Brewster fer supplying 
their pulpit before they had a settled 
pastor. As he never could be induced to 
take that oflice, urged, as he was, to do so 
after Mr. Robinson's death, perhaps he 
refused any salary at all; though die 
(xeneral Court granted, and he accepted, 
a generous gift of land. In regard to 
the first ministers in the Massachusetts 
patent, we have the facts in sufficient 
detail Mr. Higginson, of Salem, accord- 
ing to the contract made with him before 
leaving home, was to receive £80 per 
annum for three years, besides his house, 
fuel, and ''dieC At the aid of that 



IS&flL] A Lmm frmn 0$ FasL ISO 



low 1m wm to kavtt m binidred acfes of Tbt Govcrnoc^t wduj dM m( •lii«|fi> 

land as bis owb« and al the eaEpiratioB cf e»s6ad fiftj pounds— flDctoadng betirean 

seven yean » kundred acres more. la .that and one hoadred — ^withoal any hoosa 

addhioD to all thi% tliey threw in *' tlia in tine bargain. As settlements extondad 

milk of two oowB» and balf the increase of back into the interior^ where agricoltnra 

their calTes." In ease of his decease, his was the main dependence fin* a liTelihoodf 

wifii and ehildreny continaing to reside land became a pretty uniform article of 

among the flock, were to receive their ministorial support ; sometimes as an oni- 

snpport at the public chai^ His coL* right gift to the pastor and his hdrs; 

leagae, Mr. Skelton, having no fiunily on sometimes as a parish glebe, of which he 

his hands, was to receive £10 less. hadooly the ^improvement"— using this 

Governor Winthrop, and hn company word in its Yankee sense, to denote am 

cf 1,500 colonists, who arrived at tha operation which, as applied to ministerial 

moodi of Chariea river the year after, filming, was oftentimes anything but 

soflTered no delay in arranging ministe* improving to the land. Not nnfrequently 

rial matters. The first recorded act, at a house fi>r the mmister was built on such 

the first Court of Assistants — ^held in a g^be, and desoended with it from one 

the cabin of| the Arbella, on the 23d of clerical occupant to another, under the 

Almost, 1630, before a shanty was built name of «' The Parsonage." Inl647,tha 

on shore — is entered on the Colonial General Court of Massachusetts pass ed an 

Becorda, [vol. i. 73 J thus : ** It was pro* act, ^esgned to encourage (not by any 

poonded how the ministers shall be main- means to enforce,) this mode of helping 

tained. Mr. Wilson and Mr. Phillips ministers. It gave to ^ the major part of 

only propounded. tiie inhabitants " of any town Uie right to 

^ It was ordered, that houses shall be purchase or build a parsonage, and con- 

boilt for them with convenient speed, at vey it from pastor to pastor through 



the public charge. Sir Richard Salton* cessive generations — *^ to the end," says 

stall to see it done at his plantetion, the preamble, **• there may be convenient 

[Watertown,] for Mr. Phillips, and the habitedon for the use of the ministry in 

Governor at tiie other plantation for Mr. this jurisdiction, to remain to posterity." 

Wilson. As to compulsion in supporting the 

" Ordered, that Mr. Phillips should gospel among the first CdonistB, it was 

have allowed him three hogsheads of alike unheard of, and unnecessary. It is 

meal, one hogshead of mah, four bushels the agreeing testimony of Court records, 

of Indian com, one bushel of oat-meal, and all other writings bearing on the sul^ 

half an hundred of salt fish ; for apparel, ject, that ministers' salaries, large as they 

and other provisions, £20 ; or else to appear to have been, compared with the 

have £40 given him in money, per annum, stipends awarded to other public servants, 

to make his own provisions if he choose it were collected in tibe most fi«e and easy 

the rather. — That Mr. Wilson should way imaginable. The contribution-box 

have after [the rate of] £20 per annum, was carried through the congrregation on 



till his wife come over." the Sabbath, or rather the congregation 

As nearly as we can calculate firom came up to the contribution-box with 



data, the first settled ministers in their offerings, which the deacons handed 

Maasachusetts, who had families to sup- over to the minister from time to time, 

port, received an average salary of about with such other free gifb as, in fulfilling 

£60 per annum, and their house rent the parish obligation, they found it necea- 

If it seems to us small, it is because we sary to collect in other wajrs. These 

underrate Ae value of a pound sterling, at Sabbath contributions, which came along 

tlMft tuna, in a New England colony, weekly in aome ohuohes, and monthly in 



D80 A Zeswn fnm ihe Pad. [Apbo^ 

dtiieii, mint kaTe been modeb in their deiciibed, each one on a aalaiy higher 

kind, if we may take the testimony of than was paid to any other puUic funo- 

Lechford, a dianterested witness, who has tionary, excepting the Governor. The 

left ns many cnrioos scraps of inibrmadon peculation at that time is supposed to 

in that singular book of his, ^ Plain- have been about. 20,000; which would 

dealing," publidbed on his return to £ng^ throw the support of one minister upon 

land, in 1641. According to his account every three hundred and sixfy-three men, 

of the matter, as managed in the Boston women and children, throughout the Cd- 

Church, after the r^ular Sabbath wor- onies I And yet we hear not a word of 

ship in the afternoon is over, and the complaint from minister or people, as 

assembly are about to disperse, ^ one of though the one were under-paid, or the 

the deacons saying, * Brethren of the con- other over-burdened. It is worthy of 

gr^ation, as God has prospered you, so notice, in passing, that the age when 

freely offer,' the magistrates and chief these sentiments and practices prevailed, 

gentlemen first, and then the elders, and respecting ministerial support, has ever 

all the congregation of men, and most of ' been r^arded as New England's golden 

them that are not of the Charch, all single age in respect to the moral and rel^ous 

persons, widows, and women, in absence habits of her people ; an age when a 

of thw husbands, come up one after cotemporary writer could say, ^a vile 

another, one way, and bring their offer- person does not lift up his head, nor need 

ings to the deacon at his seat, and put it a godly man hang it down ; [so] that, (to 

into a box of wood for the purpose, if it God's praise be it spoken,) one may live 

be money or papers ; if it be any other there ftom year to year, and not see a 

chattell, they set it down before the dea- drunkard, hear an oath, or meet a beg- 

cons, and so pass another way to their gar." [New £ng. First Fruits, in Mass. 

seats again." [Mass. Hist Coll., iii. 77, Hist Coll., L 248.] Even Lechfbrd, a 

78.] This purely voluntary method of complainer by profession, is forced to 

providing for the support of the ministry, acknowledge that ** profane swearing, 

was inculcated by the ministers them- drunkenness, and beggars, are but rare 

selves, till there came in a class of settlers in the compass of this [Massachusetts] 

opposed to the support of the ministry in patent" It was preeminently an age of 

any way. Winthrop records, in his Jour- revivals, too, oi which Increase Mather 

nal, May 2, 1689, that Mr. Cotton, preach- says, '* Scarce a sermon preached but 

ing from 2 Kings, viii : 8, ** Take a present some evidently converted, and sometimes 

in thine hand, and go meet the man of hundreds in a sermon." 
God," &c., ** taught, that when magistrates But as we pursue the course of minia- 

are forced to provide for the maintenance terial affairs from this model age into the 

of ministers, then the churches are in a next, the scenery gradually changes, 

declining condition," and ** that the min- The remark of Johnson, in his ** Wonder- 

isters' maintenance should be, by volun- Working Providence," that ** it is as 

tary contribution, not by lands, revenues, unnatural for a right New England 

or tithes ; for these have always been man to live without an able ministry, 

accompanied wiUi pride, contention and as for a smith to work his iron with- 

sloth." [i. 855.] out a fire," is still true ; but there are 

Here, then, we find one of ** the old those coming in who differ very consider- 

paths." . The first generation of Puritan ably from the " right New England man." 

Congregationalists that occupied New Antinomians, Anabaptists, Quakers — a 

England soil, planted about forty churches, few individuals bearing these 



which, at the end of 1650, were sustain- have lately appeared, and are zealously 
ing fiffy-five ministers in the way now entering upon their vocation of crying 



1869] 



A Lesson frwn the Pari. 



mi 



down the standing order, and their hire- 
ling priesthood. Faint whispers, swelling 
into audible words, and growing by 
degrees into ranting tirades, against 
learned and pious divines, began at length 
to operate on a certain class of odierwise 
well-disposed persons, who could see no 
objection to a ** freer gospel " — i. e., cheap* 
er preaching — if that would suit the new 
comers, and quiet the disturbance. As 
these views spread, contributions would 
naturally fall off, and the deacons' labors, 
in making up the de6ciency, be increased. 
Ministers were actually beginning to leave 
their flocks for want of support, when, in 
1654, the General Court of Massachusetts 
ai^xnnted **a commission to investigate 
the matter,** which resulted in the pas- 
sage of an order ** that the County Court 
in every shire, shall, upon information 
given them of any defect of any congre- 
gation or township within the shire, order 
and appoint what maintenance shall be 
allowed to the ministers of that place, and 
shall issue out warrants to the selectmen 
to assess, and the constable of the said 
town to collect the same, and to dis- 
traine the said assessment upon such as 
shall refuse to pay." [Mass. Col. Rec. 
iv., Pt ii. 199.] The first law, bearing 
on ministerial support in the Plymouth 
Colony, was passed the same year, and 
the same reason for it is given in its 
preamble, namely, " railing and ranting " 
against the ministry. But in this Colony, 
always distinguished for a more tolerant 
^irit than the other, the law proceeded 
no further than to authorize magistrates 
to ** use all gentle means to upbraid " the 
delinquents ** to do their duty therein," 
with discretionary power to use other 
means, in a small way, with such as 
** resist through plain obstinacy against an 
ordinance of God." As this gentle and 
snasory law could not stop ** railing and 
ranting," so neither did it cure the mis- 
chief which railers and ranters had already 
inflicted on the community, by their cease- 
leM appeals to ignorance, envy, and 
asratice, stimulated and intensified as 

VOL. I. 21 



these appeals were, by spiritoal prfiM' 
Accordingly, in 1667, the General CouM' 
undertook to enforce the support of tt&U*- 
isters by the assessment of a tax, levied Hi 
**a just and equal proportion upon tlte^ 
inhabitants " of each town, who ** refbse' 
to clear their part with the rest of thlB 
Church or town, in the due maintenance 
and support of the ministry, — ^this law Hi 
be in force only to them, but not unl6^ 
others that do their duty." 

It will be seen with what relnctande^ 
the fathers gave up the voluntary pria^ 
dple of ministerial support, and for wM' 
reason they did it; how the law, even' 
when deemed a necessity, was limited, in 
its application, to the lawless — leavin^r t6 
the freest exercise of the voluntary prin^ 
ciple all who were ready to soppbrt th^ 
gospel, as hitherto every one had snp^ 
ported it, without legal constraint Yet 
was the law denounced; and by none 
more fiercely than those whose diiorderiy 
conduct had been the occasion of enacts 
ing it. The following extract, fixnn the 
Plymouth Court Records, 2d October, 
1658, gives a good illustration of th^ 
times, orthography and all : ** Leiftenant 
Mathew Fuller being presented fbr spook- 
ing reproachfully of this Court, and say** 
ing the law enacted about ministers' mainr 
tainance was a wicked and a Divillish 
law, and that the Divill sett att the sterne 
when it was enacted, the words being 
proved, hee referring himselfe to the 
Bench, they sensure to be fined 50 shil- 
lings." [iii. 150.] The friction thus in- 
troduced into the machinery of thefle 
Congregational churches, was hard to be 
overcome. Nor did any lubricating pro- 
cess, however often and thoroughly ap- 
plied, entirely stop the creaking, till legal 
compulsion had given place to the volun- 
tary principle again, as it was in the 
beginning, and as it is now. 

But let us not too hastily condemn onr 
fathers for such legislation. Whatever 
may be said about the expediency of 
resorting to legal coercion in supporting 
pnbHc worship nouf^ that law embodiesi ia 



t62 



A Zeam frwn the Pari. 



[Apbil^ 



iti .preamble, one reaioa for it which moat 
have had great weight then, viz: ** Inas- 
much as the several townships were 
granted by the government in cansidera" 
Hon that such a company might he received 
09 should maintain the public worship and 
service of God there." [Plym. Col. Rec. 
iiL| 101-2.] To enact such a law was 
simply requiring the inhabitants of a 
town to comply with the terms on which 
their land was given them, and their 
municipal rights secured, — merely hold- 
ing them to their bai^n when they 
showed signs of breaking/ away from it 
Had nothing been done to arrest this 
course of things; had no subduing in- 
fluence been thrown over this wild, come- 
outer spirit, then venting itself against a 
devoted and regularly paid ministry, it is 
imposable to say what would have been 
the result Checked, as it was, the evil 
was immense. In the Plymouth Colony, 
every minister was unsettled, excepting 
Mr. Partridge of Duxboro' ; and through- 
out New £ngland there was a feeling of 
discouragement infused into the ministry, 
and a blight left upon the churches, which 
some of them never out-grew. Perhaps 
its worst effect was to prolong the union 
of Church and State, by creating an 
apparent necessity for holding up religion 
by the arm of civil law. At any rate, in 
dissolving that unblest union, this was the 
last tie to be sundered. 

The civil magistrates and legislators 
having thus assumed the functions of 
** nursing fathers to the churches," as they 
are usually styled in these Acts, could 
not consistently stop with the mere en- 
forcement of duty on those who were 
able, but unwilling to support their min- 
isters. What was to be done with those 
who were willing, but unable? If, as 
was then deemed an unquestionable 
fact, the temporal well-being of a town 
turned chiefly on its gospel privileges, 
were not the guardians of the Common- 
wealth bound to see that every town had 
its gospel, minister? With the views 
then held by all leading minds through- 



out New England, such qoestioiii were 
answered in the asking ; and the General 
Court were not more prompt in handling 
delinquents, than in helping the needy. 
During the Ust quarter of the seventeenth 
century, and some way into the eighteenth, 
the legislative records of Massachusetts 
are sprinkled with notices of grants from 
the public treasury, for the relief of 
ministers, who, it was represented, could 
not be otherwise sustained. A full ac- 
count of the procedure may be found on 
pages 56-7 of this Quarterly; where 
** early methods of Church Extension " are 
considered. 

The bearing which these facts have on 
the subject now in hand is this: they 
show that the law-makers of that day, 
and, of course, a majority of their con- 
stituents, still deemed the ministry a neces- 
sity which must be provided for at all 
events. How far the people 83rmpathixed 
with their rulers in tins matter, it is not 
diflSicult to show. The terms of ministe- 
rial support at that time were usually 
stated in two parts, viz : so much for set- 
tlement, and so much for salary. By 
examining a large number of cases, it 
appears that, in country towns, the settle- 
ment was about £200 lawful money, or 
its equivalent in land, and the salary 
from £80 to £100; which, while com 
was ninepence a bushel, and labor four- 
teen cents a day, and fuel merely the cost 
of cutting and carting, made a very com- 
fortable living. Add to this the fact, that 
in 1671 a law was passed in Massachu- 
setts, [See Col. Rec, vol. iv. Pt ii., 486 J 
freeing the property of ministers ** from 
all rates for the country, county, and 
Church, and for the town also, except 
when by special contract with the town 
they have consented thereto," and it will 
appear that the clergy were better pro- 
vided for than they have ever been since. 

The custom of making legislative grants, 
to piece out the short-comings of a feeble 
parish to their pastor, could not be con- 
tinued. Even if the churches had all 
remained of one denomination, as they 



18SI».] 



A Lesson from the Past. US 



were wlien tiiis policy was initiated, tiie the thing. Qaite likely tlie same chvrehe^ 
bankrupt state of tbe public treasury, and others that have sprung from them, 
occasioned by French and Indian wars, are better off to-day — more -vigorous and 
would have rendered it impossible to meet enterprising — than they would have been 
the growing demand. The last grant had they leaned on the arm of charity 
which the Greneral Court of Massachu- during those trying times. Shut up to 
ietts made to a feeble Church, as such, in their own efforts, and induced to exert 
sustaining their pastor, was in 1711. tftem, (this last was the turning point in 
Those who have had occasion to watch their destiny,) they passed safely through 
the shrivelling influence (on the recip- the season of temptation, which, as if to 
ients,) of parish funds and State endow- reward their self-denying toil, was soon 
ments, and even of misnonary help, when followed by a refireshing from the pres- 
eontinued till dependence becomes a once of the Lord, as our Saviour*s tempta- 
habit, will not be surprised to learn that tion in the wilderness was by a visit of 
the partial and temporary reliance on angels. It is a suggestive fact, that this 
public patronage was working out a per- arduous, but spontaneous struggle in sup- 
ceptable change in the self-sacrificing port of the ministry, so triumphantly 
spirit of the churches, — a change from a sustuned under greater difficulties than 
higher to a lower standard of personal had ever before been encountered; was 
effort in sustaining th^ ministry. Fpr a succeeded by the greatest revival that had 
time the prospect was alarming ; and it ever been experienced. Here, too, under 
cost much plain preaching and many the pressure of these self-sustained bur- 
pamphlets, to correct the earth-prone dens, grew up that equitable and righteous 
bias which even good men were receiving custom of graduating the minister's salary 
from tilts cause. But it was corrected, — by the actual cost of living, — varying the 
not by legal penalties, nor by missionary nominal amount from time to time, as the 
charities, but by eonvincing arguments, prices of other things varied. It was 
addressed to the understanding and the no uncommon thing for a parish to 
conscience. The specimens of treatment change their minister's salary as many 
which the subject received, as handed times as Laban changed Jacob's wages ; 
down to us in old pamphlets, show how but for exactly the opposite reason, name- 
fhtile were then regarded many things ly, to make it equivalent to the sum orig- 
which are now deemed plausible pretexts inaily pledged. Thb custom continued 
for not upholding Church ordinances. It nearly through the eighteenth century, 
was in vain for delinquents to plead '* hard and afforded unspeakable relief to pas- 
times," ** short crops," ** a chaigeable tors, in times of pecuniary revulsion, or 
war." Those who, for any of these causes, fluctuations in the currency, 
were inclined to let their minister's family The law and the usage concerning min- 
sink deeper in want than their own, were isterial support in Massachusetts, passed 
told from the pulpit and the press, by through various modifications, till, in 1833, 
ministers and magistrates, that they were an amendment of the Third Article in 
** robbing God," — ** committing sacrilege," the Bill of Rights again left the whole 
— " eaten up with covetousness." subject to the voluntary action of the 
No doubt it would have been more people, where it already was in other 
pleasant to all parties to have found some parts of Now England. The result of this 
milder means of relieving these distressed return to the primitive way of Sustaining 
ministers; some gentler way of saving these the gospel, shows, on the one hand, that 
imperilled churches from the destruction religion needs no prop from the civil 
that was then threatening them ; but there power ; and, on the other, that there has 
was no other at hand, and tMs accomplished been a sad falling off, from the spirit of a 



164 



4 Ji4S9on from the JPasts 



[^^m 



tummr .MfPh .'m JP«Uli|Hng k» miniiten. 
*^£#pr «ipd iSpr jl^tw«oa " would be the 
T«p|kii( pHijpifs — very iew the moral wastea 
in jfe>v £Ag)jwd, if the present geoer- 
9/i^ were jmboed mth a zeal lor the 
XrfOrd*0 hoMBe as aotjiye and ftrdeot as that 
whitch biult her Bret aanctqaries, aod sus- 
tnjoAdber fint minifters. Even leaving 
fliit.pfiqiQv.AU habitual aeglecters of pub- 
Ue firqosl^p, 4M coofinix^ our observation 
to such onj[y as may fooperly be called 
Cburchv'^iQg .people, A^d who constitute 
t)ie rook 4|m1 ifile ^ ministerial support- 
foSf — ^were on)/ theM€ actuated by the 
Hpirit of itheir Puritan fathers, how would 
**4ie,w]idemess and the solitary place be 
gUd £ta th^ !" How would ** the desert 
fiQ^ce and blossom as the rose !*' When 
iirottld Another pastor, of kindred spirit 
vidth such a people, and ministering to 
them in " spiritual things," be stopped in 
his work, and set adrift from his parish, 
merely because they could not longer 
afford him those '* carnal things," without 
which he cannot devote himself wholly to 
their service in that blessed, but life- 
exhausting labor ? No doubt there would 
»ven then be found, occasionally, a 
feeble band in New England, and many 
more out of it, who would esteem it a 
great favor to get help in building a 
meeting-house and sustaining a minister ; 
but whether they received it or not, a 
meeting-house would go up, and a minis- 
ter be employed, and his family st^pported. 
Is it hoping against hope to look for the 
return of that spirit, when there is felt 
throughout the community a continually 
increasing veneration for the men who 
were once so deeply imbued with it ? 
Must we believe that nothing can be done 
to bring the present generation up to such 
high endeavors, when everybody sees 



that the results of. similar ende^fors, by 
a former generation, have inimortalized 
their names ? Let us rather believe that 
*' the thii^ which hath been, is that which 
shall be ;" that this old path will again be 
trodden ; and that the travellers therein 
will find ** rest to their souls," as their 
predecessors did. It is our deep convic- 
tion — growing deeper every day — that 
the next advancing step in supplying our 
destitute popujiation with an adequate 
ministry, especially here in New England, 
will be taken in thb direction. There 
has been a growing tendency, of late, to 
make Home Missionary Societies respon- 
sible for ministerial maintenance within 
their respective bounds. Perhaps the 
worst, thoi^h not the only bad efi«ct of it 
is, to lighten the responsibilities of their 
people, and proportionally diminish their 
efforts. It also has the effect to reduce 
minbters* salaries, and to hasten their dis- 
mission. A pastor finds that his support is 
too small for his growing family ; and his 
people feel that they cannot increase it. 
On the ground of these data, they make 
their appeal to the Missionary Society, 
which, of course, can come to the rescue 
only in case of a recdt as well as ti/eU 
necessity; and yet if it refuse the aid 
sought, the minister is almost sure of being 
dismissed, or else is retained on a reduced 
salary ; while, in either case, the responsi- 
bility, instead of resting on the consciences 
of those who must bear it before God, is 
quietly transferred to others. Thus does 
an agency, designed for good become an 
instrument of evil ; and the disbursement 
of charity, whose only aim is to strengthen 
the weak, practically tends to weaken the 
strong. How different from all this were 
the views held by our fathers ! and how 
extremely unlike were the results 1 



185&] Th 0(mneam ^f Pastor (^ %&^ 



THE CONNECTION OF PASTOR AND PEOPLE: 

ECCLESIASTICALLY AND CIVILLY. 

BT BJSY. A. H. QUINT. 

We propose to consider, first, What lie down to sleep in the graveyard beside 

the Pastoral Bdation is ; secondly, The his predecessors. He did not look for- 

Method of its actual Formation ; thirdly, ward to a time when, in old age, he 

Its Tenure ; and fourthly, The Method of should be turned over to the God of the 

its Dissolution. In what we have to say, ravens for his daily bread ; nor did hia 

we shall consider the ecclesiastical relar- people watch for 83rmptomB of their pas- 

tion as the substance, it being antecedent tor's seeking a ** broader field of useful- 

to, and above, ail human laws ; and the ness." Then this tie had a sacredneasi 

civil relation as the method, in which the now long since lost Age only deepened 

law estimates it. affection, and made him a wiser counsel- 

A hundred years ago, the explani^tions lor. He had long since buried the patri- 

of the above points would have been archs who had welcomed him in his 

exceedingly simple. The pastor of a youth; he had married the children of 

New England parish, grave, kind, loving their then stalwart sons ; he had baptized, 

and beloved, was the revered preacher and again married, and again baptized, 

of a plain and old fashioned Gospel ; the and was venerable alike to the youngest 

welcome visitor in the homes of his peo- and to those who lingered with him. 

pie ; the counsellor in occasions of per- And when he died, they mourned for 

plexity ; the consoler in times of trouble, him as for a father. 

Having been settled only afler months of It is needless to say, that all this is 

careful consideration on the part of cau- changed. Few men of middle age, are 

tious and godly hearers, and after a day now in their first pastorates. A few Sab- 

of special prayer for wisdom, to Him ** that baths of preaching Seminary sermons, a 

giveth to all men liberally and upbrai- hasty vote, a Council obliged to concur, — 

deth not," no unexpected developments this is the settlement ; a few months of 

caused regret to either. Having been novelty, gradually waning to indifference, 

trained for hb work in the family of some a few years of sameness, a restiveness oo 

eminent divine, he was no novice to that the part of minister or people, a difficulty 

practical part of ministerial life, which through some troubler in Israel, — this is 

Seminaries, however impregnated with the tenure ; then a request for dismissiony 

scholastic lore, are utterly unable to fur- on the ground of ** ill health," a Council, 

nish. Settled under the advice of vener- to endorse the minister as an angel, and 

able men, in the days when grey hairs the people as saints, condolence with the 

were honored, with permanent provision church ** in their great loss," a separation, 

made for his support, he could go on with — and this is the end. Such are a ma- 

his work, comparatively secure from every jority of our pastorates. 

Diotrephes, not necessitated to sacrifice a What the cause of this change is, we 

slowly developing training of hb people to do not propose to consider. Perhaps the 

those hasty methods which, for the sake changed state of society, perhaps the 

of popularity, must furnish constant nov- changed tenure of support, perhaps a 

cities to itching cars, and with the full a less stable theology, perhaps the preva- 

expectation that, in due time, he should lence of " isms," perhaps less singleness 



166 The Oonnedion of Pastor and Pecpk. [Afbh^ 

of paq>09e in the ministry to know gle to the glory of God. On the other 
nothing but «* Jesus Christ and him cruci- hand, the people^owe to him, legally, snch 
fied," may have contributed to cause this support as their stipulations upon settle- 
state of things. The fkct is, however, ment specify ; spiritually, they owe rever- 
apparent ; and it is only a question with ence, love, assistance, relief from anzie- 
good men, whether to seek a return to ties, and spiritual and temporal support, 
the ways of the fathers, or to endeavor to Hence a minister may perform all his 
conform with as good a grace as possible, legal duties, and yet, Scripturally, be a 
to the prevalent desire for a substantially faithless ** steward of the manifold grace 
itinerant ministry. In either case, it is of God;" a people. Church or society, may 
desirable to understand the points speci- pay all they agreed to pay, and yet starve 
fied at the head of this article. If, in one whom they are bound to support; 
attempting this, we go over ground well may keep themselves free in the eye of 
known, it is for the sake of completeness, the law, and yet drive a minister into a 

I. The pastoral relation exists between premature grave, 
an individual called ** the pastor," and a II. The pastoral relation is formed, 
body, called in colloquial style, ** the peo- both legally and ecclesiastically, by the 
pie." To constitute a pastorate, there mutual agreement of both parties ; that is, 
must be a distinct and visible relation and the pastor, on the one hand, and the peo- 
a distinctly oiganized body to whom the pie on the other, agree mutually, the one 
pastor holds that relation. The body to be pastor and to fulfill the duties of the 
between whom and the pastor this rela- office, the other to occupy and fulfill the 
tion exists, may be considered in three duties of, the corresponding position. The 
ways, viz. (1) as a Church, which is the essence of the whole matter lies in this 
only New Testament plan, (2) as a par- mutual agreement; but its form varies, 
ish distinct from a Church, to which the Congregationally, (by which we mean 
Church is, in some States, only an insepa- Scripturally,) the Church and pastor 
rable adjunct, and (3) as a Church acting make their own bargain, asking advice, 
as a Religious Society, which it may do, however, of neighboring churches, on the 
if it pleases. But whatever shape this ground that it is ** a matter of common 
body may take, there are certain recipro- concernment," and because such a course 
cal duties. Legally, if the pastor preaches recognizes the obligations of the fellow- 
doctrines substantially the same as those ship of the churches. We say, ** make 
he was uhderstood to hold when first set- their own bargain," although the theory 
tied, — performs with ordinary fidelity his is that the Church elects its pastor ; ^ 'Tis 
special services, funerals, ordinances, and very certain," says Cotton Mather, in his 
the like, — and preserves a fair character. Ratio Disciplinae, p. 26, ** that the right 
he is held to have performed his share of of a Church to choose its own pastor was 
the contract And so long as the people recognized and received in all the times 
meet their pecuniary and kindred obliga- of primitive Christianity. Yea, 'twas one 
tions, so long they are unblamable. But, of the last things that the Man of sin rav- 
spiritually, every Christian sees that this ished from the people of God." But this 
is a small part of the relation. It is the old theory has been submerged by the 
shell without the meat Scripturally, it is peculiar and unscriptural relations of 
the pastor's duty, in every proper way. Church and parish. Where these rela- 
to endeavor to gain souls to Christ, to tions exist, (as they generally, but not 
edify Christians, to train up the young, always, do in New England,) the Church 
to comfort his people in trials, to counsel must obtain the consent of the parish, or, 
in all religious concerns, and generally, what is the real truth, the Church is po- 
to be a faithful minister, with an eye sin- litely allowed to nominate, and the parish 



1859.] 



The ComeeUon of Pastor and People. 



167 



really makes the bargain. The method 
in Massachusetts is this: The Church, 
having by proper methods, (now gener- 
ally abandoned in practice) satisfied itself 
that the person proposed for the pastorate 
is suitably qualified, votes to extend to 
him " a call," that is, an invitation, to 
become pastor ; it then sends that vote to 
the parish, which, at a legal meeting, 
properly notified for the purpose, concurs 
or not, as it pleases ; if the parish refuses 
to concur, the case is dropped ; if it does 
concur, it fixes the salary, and the votes 
are transmitted to the individual in ques- 
tion ; if he accepts, the Church and parish 
call a Council of neighboring churches, 
empowering them by letters missive, to 
examine, and, if they see fit, to ordain 
him to the pastoral office. If that Coun- 
cil do so ordain him, the relation is then 
and there ratified. Legally, less will suf- 
fice. (1) Only the ^parish makes the 
contract ; the Church, it has been decided 
in our Courts, has no authority in the 
matter, although the Court recommends 
the practice of allowing the Church to 
nominate. The Church, although its offi- 
cers are a quasi corporation for certain 
eleemosynary purposes, is not a contract- 
ing party in the settlement of a minister ; 
and, in one case, a Council was found 
willing to settle a minister against the 
vote of the Church ; in fact, Unitarian 
pastors are now generally settled without 
any action whatever by the Church. (2) 
The law has nothing to do with the duty 
and method .of the parties' obtaining mu- 
tual satisfaction of each others' fitness; 
while, ecclesiastically, and religiously, that 
is a necessary preliminary. (3) A Coun- 
cil is not legally necessary to the formation 
of the pastoral connection, inasmuch as a 
contract can be made without one ; while, 
ecclesiastically, a Council is required by 
the fellowship of the churches, although not 
for the validity of the transaction.* These 

1 The quention b somf^timM aaked whether a 
formal call, a formal acceptance, and the actual 
eooaomuatlon of the contract, vatabliah, Coogre. 
fatlooally, a paatorate. Cvrtainly, both Gongrvga- 
tio&ally and legally ; the interren tion of a Council 



differences arise, in part, from the inade- 
quacy of law to meet spiritual conditions. 
The law goes as far as it can go, (except 
in one point, viz : ignoring the Church,) 
and includes the essence of the pastoral 
relation, so far as law can touch it 

Two points will be noticed here : First, 
while orderly Congregationalism requires 
not only all the law requires, and much 
more, care should be taken that law 
should be fully complied with, and that 
all things should be done in a proper 
manner. Thus the parish meeting should 
be seen to be legal ; the " call " should be 
specific and comprehensive ; the Council 
should be regularly invited and plainly 
authorized; the records of the Council 
should be properly made up (especially 
embracing the /act of settlement) ; copies 
of the Result should be communicated to 
parish and minister, to avoid any possible 
confusion afterwards. A case once oc- 
curred where a minister, 78 years of age, 
was turned off to beggary by a parish, 
which had profited by his labors for forty- 
five years; — although time so heals in- 
formalities as generally to prevent such 
wrong. Secondly, a great change has 
taken place in the relation of Church and 
parish. Formerly the Church was actu- 
ally the main party, as it now is ecclesias- 
tically. When none but Church members 
could vote in civil affairs, and when par- 
ishes were territorial, the parish was 
substantially the Church ; but when this 
qualification for voting was done away, 
the power of transacting business remain- 
ed in the civil body as before, which thus 
retained the substance, while the princi- 
ple was gone ; and now the Church is only 
an inseparable adjunct of the parish, with 
no voice in the contract, and exposed to 

affeota only the feltowahip of the churchea, noi the 
Talidity of the act itaelf. But a formal call and fbr- 
mal acceptance do not establish a paatorate nnleea 
there be an actual Installation of some kind; the 
election of a man aa QoTernor, and hta acceptance, do 
not make him GoTernor until he ia inaugurated Into 
that position ; but a Church can, with or without a 
Council, and in any way they prefer, inatal tba 
pastor, although to do it without a OonacU is Irrsg^ 
ular aa to form. 



168 



The Cbrinetiian tf PastGr and People. [kprohj 



all ih<$ eonseqnences flowing from the 
Dedbam decision. Thus the chnrches 
lost theil* legitimate rights by a method 
whose conseqaences we can only attribute 
to their own early folly. Bat on this 
matter we will not enlarge, as we propose 
to treat of the relation of Church and 
parish (or society,) in another article.^ 

IIL The tenure of the pastoral rela- 
tion. 

The tenure has been greatly modi- 
fied by the complication of the legal with 
the ecclesiastical. In strict Congrega- 
tionalism, the Church, which elects, has a 
right to dismiss at pleasure. But the 
pecuniary engagements which have en- 
tered, have made the relation a contract 
It must, then, of course be governed by 
all the rules of ordinary contracts. The 
parties, having made a contract, are bound 
^ in honor, as well as by the ordinary rules 
of justice, to adhere to it It were strange 
if religion allowed any greater laxity 
than law, in the fulfillment of contracts ; 
any one who violates such a compact, is 
dishonorable in the extreme. 

This includes, first, that the relation b 
precisely what the contract of settlement 
makes it It must interpret itself. If 
that contract had any peculiar provisions, 
the parties are bound legally and eccle- 
riastically, to observe them. If, for ex- 
ample, it were specified that a colleague 
should always be employed, no violation 
of that provision could rightly impose 
additional duties on the pastor. If, as is 
sometimes the case, it were provided that 
the pastorate should expire at the end of 
^YQ years, it must then cease. If a pro- 
vision were inserted, that upon either 
party's giving six months' notice, the con- 
nection should cease, that provision must 
be enforced. So with any other pecu- 
liarities. So the law has always decided. 
The contract must be fulfilled. One case 
is perhaps worthy of mention; it was 
that of Cochran r. Camden (15 Mass. Re- 

1 A totter ofcnqalrj on thte ralOMt from a Taloed 
aomtponiml vUl rMilv* notfoeina ftatart nam- 
ter. 



ports, p. 296.) The minister was settled 
with a stipulation that ** they shall each 
have the right, by giving six months' 
nodce of the wish for a dismission, to caD 
a Council, whose duty it shall be, at the 
request of either party, to dissolve the 
connection between the town and the 
minister, unless such dissatisfaction can be 
mutually accommodated." The town 
voted, at a certun date, to give the ax 
months' notice, and that the connection 
would be ended at its expiration. It also 
sought to obtain a Council, but the min- 
ister declined to accede. The town then 
endeavored to obtain an Exparte Council, 
(which the Court held they had a right to 
do,) but by some blundering, failed to 
obtain a legal one, although several per- 
sons came as called, and individually gave 
their advice in the premises. The mini»' 
ter claimed his salary for a year, (more or 
less,) after the expiration of the six 
months' notice, and brought a suit to re- 
cover it The town held, that as a Coun- 
cil would, by the terms of the contract, 
have no option, bnt be merely formal, the 
connection was ended by their vote. The 
Court decided that ** the Convention of a 
regular Council, to pass upon the question 
of dismission, was essential to the dissolu- 
tion of the contract and that it was so 
contemplated by the parties when they 
entered into it ;" it held, also, that such a 
Council could not be bound by such a 
restriction, but that a Council has an in- 
herent and essential right to deliberate, 
and, if it choose, to refuse to dissolve the 
connection ; and that, if a Council did thus 
meet, under the six months* plan, and did 
not advise dismission, the legal relation 
still continued, notwithstanding the six 
months' notice. The case reminds us of 
a recent case in Massachusetts. 

The tenure of the pastoral contract, is 
now such, secondly, that neither party 
can annul it at its own pleasure, unless 
expressly so stated. Doubtiess, no true 
Congregationalist would ever assent, in 
Council, to such a- preposterous provision ; 
it is bad enough to have to agree to 



1859.] 



The OomueUon (ff Pastor and Peofk. 



169 



Mfive-jeara' daoses," or ^' siz-mooths*- 
notice clauses," withoat offering such an 
inducement to busy-bodies. We take it 
for granted, that such cases do not exist 
The .tenure of the pastoral office, there- 
fore, is not subject to the will of either 
party. Having made a contract, the par- 
ties are bound to fulfil it ; this is ecclesias- 
tical as well as legal. **The question 
is brought before us," (^ A very v. Tyring- 
ham, 3 Mass. p. 160,) '^whether towns 
and parishes have the right of dismissing 
their ministers at pleasure, without assign- 
ing any breach of duty or immoral con- 
duct against them.*' *' Ii is true, the re- 
ligious societies are left at liberty to make 
such contract, and for such time as shall 
be agreed between them and their minis- 
ter ; but the contract once made, it is sub- 
ject to all such rules of law as govern 
other engagements." So it was declared, 
in Ptchham v. North Parixh in Haverhill^ 
(16 Pickering. 274,) that, *' the parish 
cannot dissolve the contract at their own 
will and pleasure ;" and this principle has 
been, we believe, uniformly adhered to. 
It has also been decided that, when no 
limitation is expressed in the contract of 
settlement, the settlement is for life ; ** a 
settlement of a minister, if under a con- 
tract for an indefinite period, is a settle- 
ment for life." *' It has ever been the 
uniform opinion of all the Judges who 
have successively filled the bench of our 
highest Judicial Court, that when no 
tenure was annexed to the office of a 
minister by the terms of his settlement, he 
did not hold the office at will, but for life, 
determinable for some good and sufficient 
cause, or by the consent of both parties." 
{Avery v, Tyringhatn, as above.) Nor 
are we aware that thb principle has ever 
been reversed. 

The tenure of the pastoral relation is 
such, thirdly, that neither party has a 
right to nullify it virtually , while it still 
exists actually. We fear that too little is 
thought of the sacredness and inviolability 
of its duties. A Church or parish, which 
deliberately does anything to impair the 



value of this connection, is dishonorable in 
the highest degree. *' Starving a minis- 
ter out," ** cutting off* supplies," however 
sophistically shielded, render a parish 
only worthy of contempt AVhen indi- 
viduals refuse to bear their proportion of 
expense, or refuse to aid in those spiritual 
duties wherein cooperation is esi!«ntial 
to ministerial success, those individuals 
act in a way which should cause the 
blush of shame to mantle their cheeks. 
The underhanded methods often taken to 
bring a minister into unpopularity, are of 
every-day occurrence. Some physician 
U offended, because the minister's family 
prefer pills to pellets, or pellets to pills ; 
or some reformer or conservative finds too 
little or too much abolitionism ; or some 
purse-proud parishioner receives too little 
reverence ; and immediately a long face 
*' fears that the minister's usefulness is at 
an end." The low and despicable arts, 
which whisper where they dare not speak, 
are then busy. Or, sometimes, the pre- 
cise opposite is the case. A parish b 
bold enough, for instance, to close the 
Church against the pastor. Such a course 
is not only mean, — it has no force what- 
ever. This was settled in the case of 
Sheldon v, Eattton (24 Pickering, 281,) 
where the Court decided that the plaintiff 
was legally entitled to his salary, inas- 
much as he had ** at all times been ready 
to perform all duties to them, growing out 
of the relation thus created, and having, 
in fact, performed such parochial duties as 
they would permit him to perform." Also 
in Thompson v. Rehoboth (5 Pickering, 
470,) where it was held that ** he was a 
minister de facto, as well as de jure, until 
lawfully dismissed; and might lawfully 
claim hid salary, on the ground of services, 
notwithstanding the meeting-house was 
shut against him." 

On the other hand, ministers are 
equally bound in honor and in law. No 
man has a right to trifle with the pastoral 
office. That vanity in candidates, which 
loves to accumulate *' calls " only to be 
refused ; which boggles and manoeuvres to 



VOL. I. 



22 



170 



The Cbfmeetum of Padar Met PeopU. [Apbil^ 



get a higher offer, — ^which we liaTe knoim 
to dot all the eligible vacancies on a 
pocket map of New England for continued 
reference, or to make ont a table ar- 
ranged according to the size of salaries, — 
has done much to bring the pastoral 
relation into disrepute. Nor is it an 
unknown thing for pastors to be away 
from their own united and able parishes, 
eandidating in richer pulpits, not once 
or twice, but habitually. When ministers, 
themselves, have so low a regard for the 
sacred office of preaching ** Jesus Christ 
and him crucified," how can they expect 
the pastoral relation to retain its old 
permanence ? We fear that the tone in 
our Seminaries is too often, not ** where 
can I best serve Christ," but, ** where can 
I get a fashionable, a prominent, a 
wealthy pulpit?" — ^that the discussions 
are often characterized more by ambition 
than by thoughts of a dying Redeemer ; 
that Councils give way too often to men's 
mere love of change, approving in form 
what their hearts rebuke. We hold that 
no pastor has a right (in ordinary cases) 
to search for another parish ; he should 
leave the matter with God ; he should 
place himself unreservedly in God's 
service, and wiut for God's bidding. If 
God has a work for any man to do, he 
has a place for him to do it in, and will 
place him there in the proper time; 
" What wouldst Thou have me to do? " is 
all that a minister has a right to say. Nor 
will there be a return to the good old 
paths, until pastors and churches shall 
become thoroughly imbued with the 
sacredness of the work which Christ has 
appointed to each ; shall sacrifice self, 
and shall be willing to live under the 
guidance of the Holy Ghost 

IV. Method of the Dissolution of the 
Pastoral Relation. 

Had the question been asked, a few 
generations ago, **How is the Pastoral 
Relation dissolved?" the answer would 
have been, *• by death, of course." But 
it appears by the Massachusetts sta- 
tutics, that, in the year ending July 



1, 1858, only one pastor died^ while 4S 
were dismissed, and that in the year pre- 
ceding, the ratio was 2 to 45 ; the annual 
dismissions appear to be ft*om one-eighth to 
one-sixth of all the pastors ; in other words, 
the pastorates average less than eight yean 
each, without reckoning losses by death. 
By this time, we ought to be familiar with 
the grounds and method (^such a separa- 
tion ; but not infirequent and diagraceful 
contests, as well as numberless cases of 
heart-burnings, of which the public hean 
nothing, indicate a state of lamentable 
ignorance. 

According to early New England Con- 
gregationalism, the pastorate is nmply an 
office in a particular Church, of divine 
origin, but to which the Church elects the 
incumbent, as it would any other officer. 
Ordination was merely inauguration into 
the office pertaining to that Church, not 
to a grade of clexgy . Removal from office 
was under the control of the Church, and 
when effected by vote of the Church, was 
called ** depodtion," — a term which is now 
applied to degradation ft*om the ministry 
itself. Yet when so performed, it was 
held that it ought not to be done without 
the advice and approbation of neighbor- 
ing churches reprinted in Council. 
There very soon arose the idea that the 
relation was really a contract, and that 
so long as both parties performed their 
share of the contract neither party had a 
right to break it ; and when an actual con- 
tract for support entered, this theory was 
confirmed. That the relation is a con- 
tract, and determinable for proper causes 
and in a proper manner, all agree. But 
what are suitable grounds for a dissolution 
of the relation, is a mooted question. Dif- 
ferent individuals do not fully agree ; and 
between the legal and the spiritual there 
is a broad difference, — the latter far ex- 
ceeding the former. Spiritually, (1) it 
would already appear, that when either 
party has violated the contract, the other 
is absolved. Thus, if the people refuse or 
neglect to pay, and punctually pay, the 
amount agreed upon for pastoral support ; 



1$59.] 



The ChmecUoH tf Pastor and PtofU. 



in 



<^9 if they wQl not cooperate in Chnstian 
work, bat throw on him labors not belong- 
ing to him, — he is not bound to remain, 
although he is still .to consider whether 
dn^ to his Master max ^^^ require him 
to bear with such difficulties, and still to 
preach the gospel, even although the 
people he preaches to, are CTidently sin- 
ners, and not saints; and certainly he is 
not to act without a fur endeavor to have 
the grioTances redressed. On the other 
hand, if a pastor is, spiritually, unfaithful ; 
if he neglects his duties ; if he meiges the 
pastor in the politician, or the temperance 
or abolition agent, then he yiolates his 
contract (2) If the proper ends of the 
ministerial work are not accomplished, 
it becomes then a presumption that the 
connection should cease,— even although 
no &ult be chargeable on either side.^ A 
man xdkj not be fitted for the place where 
he is settled, and yet do admirably some- 
where else. A parish may not work well 
with one man, but may with a different 
JiTow no hasty determination should ever 
be made, in the discouraged feeling so 
common to ministers that they ^ see no 
fruits;^ they should ** learn to labor and 
to wait" But when it is clearly evident 
tiiat a minister faib to meet the require- 
ments of the case, — perhaps cannot keep 
the continued affections of a people, per- 
haps is not adapted to the place, then 
there is no reason in his throwing himself 
back on his ^^bond," and persisting on 
remaining, while Providence indicates his 
removal. In saying this, we are afraid 
we may give countenance to an unsettled 
feeling on the part of churches, a love of 
novelty, a desire of change, in which all 
these reasons are alleged, while the true 
one is their own indolence, unkindness, 
and want of that spiritual- mindedness 
which is life and peace. Against this we 



1 W« do not, of eoane, refer to cases where a pas- 
•» bsoomes old and helpievs, after barloff siTen the 
bcH jrsart of his life to his parish ; in such a case, no 
deeeot man would treat an old hone as aopentn- 
naled miolsters soinetimes are treated. Christianity 
awl awnanitijr alike require en adequate sopport from 
to wbom 1m ius devoted hit UA. 



protest; but neverthelM we do say, that 
after all proper efforts to remove cause for 
difficulty &il, and the great ends of the 
pastorate are evidently not attained, no 
person^ considerations ought to weigh 
with a pastor one moment True, he has . 
hb contract^ but why is not this thought 
of when the pastor is called to a ^ broader 
field of usefulness," and, against the desires 
and prayers of an affectionate people, 
*' feels it his duty " to go ? We remember 
a case where this principle was stated with 
powerful effect; a parish desired a change 
in the pastorate ; the pastor and his friends 
exclaimed against the injustice, and alleged 
^ the sacredness of the contract ;*' ** if he 
was not the man, why was it not discov- 
ered at his settlement ?" " But," was the 
reply, ** Mr. A. B. was settled at C, over 
a united people; against these <remon- 
strances he left, to accept a call from the 
richer parish of D., notwithstanding the 
* sacredness of a contract;' and yet again, 
against the entreaties of D., and with an 
abundant income there, he left D. to enter 
into this *' broader field " of £., forgetful 
of * the sacredness of a contract' Twice 
he insisted on the dissoludon of his con- 
tract ; why may not a parish do so once t " 
And it is difficult to see, if a minister 
ought to leave a Church and go where he 
can do more good, why 'a Church may not 
desire a man who can do them more good. 
The prevailing instability is not all change- 
able to churches. 

When the parties are considering the 
subject of a separation, one or both, they 
should first consider religiously the reasone 
for such a proceeding. That a separa- 
tion can be legally consummated, is not 
evidence to a Christian, that it ought to he 
consummated. It is for the conscience of 
the parties to decide this. For ourselves, 
we incline to that old fashioned view, 
which looked upon such a separation as 
sacrilegious, except when demanded by • 
the clearest evidence of duty, and sadly 
unfortunate when it is clearly necessary. 
Hence we dislike the modem plan, which 
subjects the continuance of this holy rela- 



17!^ Th$ (kmiuiim cf Pastor and Pe^ [Apbie^ 

ttoii to the whims and caprices of pastor however, has no sach dutom ; a mimsler 
or parisbionera. We were once delegate once ordained, settles all ordinary matten 
to a Council called to act upon a minis- in future, with the Church ; if he be dis- 
ter's dismission, he having received a missed, the recommendatory votes of the 
** call " elsewhere. The parties were Church are his clean papers. Nor can it 
happily united, and both seemed reluctant fail to be seen that the tendency, in our 
to separate, — ^the parish toos — and both own denomination, is plainly in that direo- 
desired light When the Council unan- tion. The frequent inefficiency of Conn- 
imously advised against a separation, we cils, the needless expense of convening a 
were innocent enough to consider the Council merely to ratify a foregone con- 
matter settled. Judge of our surprise, to elusion, are working their legitimate re- 
find him, within three weeks, dismissed suits. Already a *^ half-way house" is, to 
by another Council, to go to the ** broader separate privately, and empower a Coun- 
field of labor." We have ceased to be cil, called to settle a successor, formally 
surprised at such things, but we have not to dismiss the former incumbent So 
coMed to dislike them. We have an idea transparent a form will not last long; and 
that neither party should loosen such we already find instances where the par> 
sacred ties, except when necessity clearly ties privately separate, — a course which b 
indicates it to be the will of Providence. possible, of course, only when the parties 

When it is clearly evident to either agree, 
party that a separation is actually ueces- In conformity with these principles, 
sary, that party ought so to inform the though not to the full spiritual extent, 
other. Perfect and kind frankness would has the law decided, except that it deals 
save immense trouble. Disafiected par- with societies, not churches. We will 
ties ought to have manliness enough to delineate the rules of proceedings in Mas- 
communicate directly with the pastor ; if sachusetts, not only for the benefit of 
this were done, he will, if a Christian readers in this State, but also because 
gentleman, receive it in a proper spirit ; (what is generally forgotten,) the legal 
difficulties may perhaps bo removed ; or, decisions are not arbitrary creators of 
if not, an amicable separation may take Congregationalism, but are an endeavor 
place in scores of cases where the sense of merely to interpret historical Congrega- 
mean and unjust treatment now leads to tionalisuL Unfortunately, the Courts deal 
division and strife. with parishes or societies, instead of 

When a separation seems desirable, churches; but this is not unreasonable 

the next step usually is to take the advice when we remember that there must be 

of a Council before proceeding. ^ A pas- some corporate body, of which the law 

tor settled in the service of a people," can take cognizance as to contracts, and 

well says Cotton Mather, ** is to be so other civil transactions; and so long as 

sensible of his d'.signation by the Spirit our churches throw ofi* that responsi- 

and Providence of the Lord Jesus bility as to religious institutions which the 

Christ, for that service, and of the Scriptures enjoin, they have no right to 

account that he must give unto God, complain ; if the parish must alone assume 

about his behavior in it, that his removal the legal responsibility, they ought to 

must not be rashly attempted, but with have the individual right of selecting 

much consideration, consultation, suppli- their own minister. When the churches 

cation, and sincere desire to follow the shall re-assume the burden, they can re> 

conduct of Heaven in it" And the con- assume their control, and not till then ; 

verse holds true. And on this ground, a and not till then ought they to have any 

Council is called, theoretically, for advice, voice in the matter. They have gone down 

The Baptists wing of Congregationalism, into £gypt, and they reap the result 



1859.] 



People. 



178 



Now if we tolxdtate ««Cfaim;h'' for 
** parish," we should 6nd that the legal 
decisions simply embody Congregational- 
ism, and as such they will exhibit clear 
principles. 

There are two forms in which to con- 
sider this matter of separation : 1. When 
the parties agree npon the propriety and 
terms of separation. 2. When they (/if- 
agree upon one or the other. 

1. When the parties agree, they may, 
legally, dissolve the connection without a 
Council, if they see fit The contract, like 
other contracts, may be ended by mutual 
consent ** Now it is well known," it is 
stated in Burr v. Sandwich^ (9 Mass. 277,) 
** that when the grounds of the proposed 
dtssoltttion are agreed by the parties, no 
dishonorable or inmioral imputation hav- 
ing been made one of the grounds, the 
parties may, and frequently do, dissolve 
the relation by mutual consent, without 
taking the advice of a Council." We 
doubt the ** frequently," but the prin- 
ciple is clear: The ecclesiastical method 
is, to call a Mutual Council, asking their 
advice, and empowering them to dissolve 
the contract ; thus all things are ** done 
decently and in order." It should be 
noticed, however, that a separation in such 
a case, really derives its force only from 
the consent of the parties themselves ; a 
Council has no authority of its own. If 
letters missive invite a Council merely 
** to act upon the proposed dissolution " (or 
expresses the same thing in other lan- 
guage,) the Council so called can only 
recommend, and their decision is of no 
force until ratified by subsequent action 
of the parties. The Council cannot say, 
*' the relation is hereby dissolved," unless 
especially so authorized and empowered 
by the letters missive. 

2. When parties cannot agree, whether 
as to the propriety or the terms of separ- 
ation, more complication ensues. Here a 
Council is indispensable; and simply 
upon the principle, that when parties to a 
contract cannot agree, it is a proper case 
for referees. For the sake of cieam< 



in explaiiiing this matter, we will soppoee 
that a parish wishes its pastor to leave ; 
we do not consider the opposite case (as 
no parish is silly enough to insist on its 
minister's remaining against his will); 
and will trace, step by step, the course to 
be taken, in case he objects to the thing 
itself or iti terms. 

(1.) A parish Vote, to declare the con- 
nection ended, is, of its own force, worth 
less than so much blank paper. One 
party to a contract cannot annul it *^ A 
parish may, however, without the inter- 
vention of a Council, act upon them; 
[i. e., charges of such pastoral misconduct 
as legally works a forfeiture of the pasto- 
ral office,] but they act at their peril, and 
their decision can be supported only by 
affirmative proof of the truth of these 
charges. Being parties, their decision is 
not evidence in their favor." (Sheldon 
V. Easton, 24 Pickering, 281.) Hence» 
if these charges could be substantiated, a 
Council is the ready and satisfactory tri- 
bunal. 

(2.) The parish must, as its first step, ask 
the minister to join in calling a Mutual 
Council; taking care that their action 
is legal in all respects, and specifying 
distinctly to him, in their proposal, the 
reasons which they propose to present to 
the Council. '*When these causes are 
affirmed to exist (Sheldon r. Eaxlon,^BS 
above) how are the allegations to be 
tried ? Of the first (i. e. essential change 
of belief) an Ecclesiastical Council alone, 
has jurisdiction [modified by later de- 
cisions] ; and in relation to the other two> 
that body is manifestly the most proper 
tribunal for their investigation." There 
is evident fairness also in the following, 
from Thompson v. Rehoboth, (7 Pick. 159.) 
*'When asked to agree on a Mutual 
Council, the minister ought to have a 
general stetement of the grounds and 
reasons of the call upon him ; not in a 
precise t^hnical form, but substantially 
set forth, so that he may exercise his 
judgment whether to unite in a Council 
or not" And, *«The ofier of a Mntual 



m 



7! he (hnmdim c^ Potior mid Pey^ [Apbo^ 



Couneil, to be effectual, mutt hftTe been 
made by Yirtae of aathoritj from the 
parbb." (lb.) An offer fhxn the Cboicb 
is ufleleas, and an offer from individually 
or a party, in the pariah, ia equally ao. 
UnleiB these requirements are complied 
with, it is unreasonable as well as useless 
to proceed. 

(8.) When a proposal to caU a Council is 
thus made, aflsigning reasons which the 
law will sustain, the pastor is virtually 
bound to accede to it He must antwer^ 
9XLJ proposal; and if^ in answering, he 
declines, he must specify his reasons. 
** When the authority of either party to 
proceed, depends upon the other party's 
refusing to concur without sufficient cause, 
the cause ought to be asngned, that the 
sufficiency of it may be examined." (^imt 
o. Sandwicki as above.) And the minister 
must answer categorically; a "condif 
tional answer would, and ought to be 
taken as a refusal" {Tkompson v. Beho» 
bothJ) Hence, if the parish do not as- 
sign their reasons, or assign reasons le- 
gally insufficient, the minister may safely 
decline, provided he assigns whichever 
is the case, as the reason of his refusal 
But in case the parish do specify legally 
sufficient reasons, the minister cannot 
decline. Suppose he does decline; then, 

(4.) In case he unreasonably decline, the 
parish may proceed to call an impartial 
Ex'parte Council, whose doings will in 
all respects have precisely the force of a 
Mutual Council ^ *' If, in a proper case 
for the meeting of an Ecclesiastical Coun- 
cil to be mutually chosen, either party 
should unreasonably and without good 
cause, refuse their concurrence to a mu- 

1 A aUtement to (hUi cffoct In tb« Uic Year Book, 
bai bcon callotl in qoMtioa ; but no on* who will 
•xaminv th« theory of CongregationiUiiim will doubt 
it. Tb« error arine (1) flcom Ibrgectinff that no 
Goaneil it aoyibtng nore tfaanmfvMory; a Goanell 
•ni powered to aiUadieate la noi Congiegational ; it 
it a boerd ofrefereee; and (2) by loolciogat ima- 
ginary c«Mt, in which, in reality, no Gonncil it 
proper. It ie not uterted rhat any ex-parte Goanell 
has the foroo of a matnal on«, (ibr eooie are a etench 
In the noetrila of tiMooniniaoitj,) bat tliat erery pro- 
perljf eoHitUuUd one hM predttly tha fene of a 
Matoal OooimIL 



tnal choice^ the aggrieved party may 
choose an impartial Council, and will be 
justified in confinming to the resnU." 
{Avety 0. lyringham S Mass. 160.) That 
is, the Ex-parU Council will occupy the 
position of a Mutual Council But it 
must (a) be impartially constituted. A 
defect here, by calling prejudiced per* 
sons, is HbAbL In the case of Thompson o. 
Rehobothf a member of a former un£Etvar- 
able Council, was declared to be unquali- 
fied to serve again. It ought also, (b) 
when met, to ofier itself as a Mutual 
Council to the other party ; and (c) its 
validity depends upon a previous ^ un- 
reasonable" refiisal on the pastor's part to 
call a Mutual Council. His refiisal is 
'* unreasonable," if a Mutual Council has 
been fairly ofiered, and valid reasons as- 
signed to him. If the least doubt exists 
on this point, the Council should go home. 
But what are *' valid reasons ? " Only 
those which the law declares to woik a 
fiirfeiture of the pastoral office. 

(5.) The causes which may be assigned 
as reasons, are only three: ''There are 
three established causes of forfeiture. 1. 
An essential change of doctrine. 2. A 
wilfiil neglect of duty ; and S. Immoral 
or criminal conduct" (^Sheldon v. Eom- 
ton.) The same decision explains: ''It 
must be a substantial and essential 
change ; " " not every neglect of duty, or 
every immoral act;" "they must be 
gross." " Great allowance is to be made 
for peculiarity of opinion, taste and 
character ; " »* not every trifling deviation 
from duty." " Occasional inadvertences, 
imprudence, folly, censoriousness, a spirit 
of persecution, &c., are inmioralides, but 
not- such as would, per ««, defeat a con- 
tract of this nature ; " they must be " of 
the grosser sort ; such as habitual intem- 
perance, lying, unchaste or immodest be- 
havior." Burr V. Sandwich, and HoUis Sl 
V. Pierpont, (7 Metcalf, 495) also illustrate 
some of these specifications. 

Now the legal view here fails to come 
up to the spirit of the Scriptures, in a 
point to which we have already adverted ; 



1859.] The ChtmediM df Pador and Peopk. 175 

nor 18 it certain that tbese decisions will (6.) The effect (^ the orderly decision of 
not yet be modified. Bat as the law is, a Mutual Council, or of a properly con- 
there are only these causes. Nor is the stituted Ex-parte Council, is simply this : 
legal doctrine absolutely unreasonable ; it It does not, and cannot dissolve the con- 
proceeds on the now antiquated view, tract ; but its decinon is a legal justifica- 
that a parish knows what it is about when tion of the party adopting it. For in- 
it selects a pastor ; it was not framed to stance, if a Council decide that certaiti 
meet the now ordinary method of hearing charges are proved, and that in conse- 
a Sunday or two*s flash preaching, — the quence thereof, the connection ought to 
power which produced the sermons being be dissolved, the parish is legally justified 
often like the slender stream in ** Swallow in adopting that result, and formally 
Bam," which, by judicious damming, ac- declaring the pastorate ended. This is 
cumulated enough water to grind a bushel based on the simple ground, that compe- 
or two, and then stopped for a freshet tent referees declare the contract broken 
We know of particular sermons, delivered by one party. ** An Ecclesiastical Coun- 
in so many vacant pulpits that each might cil is a judicial tribunal, whose province 
now ^ be read by its tiUe," to great ad- it is, upon the proper presentation of 
vantage. But the law supposes that a pa- charges, to try them on evidence admis- 
ridi will learn what their proposed pastor sible before such a tribunal They have 
is, and that he is deserving of confidence no power to dissolve a contract, or to 
hefort they settie Imn. It then declares absolve either party from its obligation." 
that ^ loss of confidence is not enough." (Sheldon v. Easton.) In the same case it 
'* If he has deservedly forfeited their con- is also said : ** In a proper case for a 
fidence, (Sheldon v, Easton,) he must have Council, their adjudication, regularly 
been guilty of conduct which would be a made, is sufficient evidence of the facts 
good ground for his discharge. If he has determined by them." In Steams v. Bed- 
has lost it without fault on his part, it ford, (21 Pick. 114,) "The result of a 
would be a great misfortune to him; a Council, of its own intrinsic validity, is 
good reason for his retiring from his con- never obligatory upon the parties," 
nection with them, but no legal cause for although if one party adopt it, it does 
his dismission." '* They, therefore, having certainly control the other, except in one 
capriciously and causelessly withdrawn instance, viz., " Where the result of a 
their con6denee, cannot allege their own Council is the recommendation of acts to 
misconduct as a ground for their discharge be done, and conditions to be performed, 
from the contract which they had entered by each party, the performance by one 
into." The real difficulty is, the law has party will not impose legal obligations 
not kept pace with modem degeneracy, upon the other ;" that is, if a Council 
Unless a parish distinctly specifies one of recommended the parish to dissolve the 
these three causes in their request for a relation upon giving the minister a thou- 
Mutual Council, he is legally right in sand dollars, and the minister accepted 
declining to accede ; " if no proper cause the result, yet the parish would not be 
existed, the offer of a Mutual Council by holden unless they adopted it ; but the 
the parish was unreasonable, and not the parish could not adopt that part which 
refusal of the minister." (Burr v. Sand' reconmiends a separation, and ignore the 
unch.) But if they do specify one of matter of the thousand dollars. " The 
these, and he declines, they then have result of a Mutual Council, legally con- 
full power to call an impartial Ex-fmrte voked, will not bind either party reject- 
Council, which Ex-parte Council stands ing it. The effect of the advice of a 
in the same position, so far as effect is Council is nothing more than a legal jus- 
concemed, which a mutu^ 6n6 would tification of the party who shall adopt it" 
have occupied. 



176 



The Cbtmeetian of Pastor and PeofflU. [Apbii^ 



(Burr 0. Sandwich.) In HolUs Street 
Meeting House v. Pierpont^ the descrip- 
tion of the power of Councils, in Aoery v. 
Tyringham, and Burr v. Sandwich^ is 
especially referred to and sustained, that 
** either party conforming thereto will be 
justified." ** So that we consider this 
general principle as well established, and 
not now to be controverted.** So also, 
in (Sf earns v, Bedford.) ** The decision 
of an Ecclesiastical Council, however, is 
not absolutely decisive. It may be im- 
peached in various ways, such as for 
partiality of the members of the Council, 
or any of them ; for the misconduct of the 
prevailing party in improperly influencing^ 
or attempting to influence any of the 
members of the Council, and for other 
causes. So if the ground of the decision 
of the Council appears to be insufficient 
to justify the result, the same may be 
impeached and annulled by a Court of 
Law. But the decision, upon [i. e., ** as 
to *'] the evidence and the facts, is con- 
clusive, and is not to be revised." ** These 
decisions are not conclusive in all respects, 
as already stated, and they do not oper- 
ate ex propria vigore as a judgment, but 
only as a justification of the party con- 
forming to them." ' 

To give the result of Council even so 
much force, it must be clear ; it should 
have two parts, viz., the advice given, and 
the grounds of that advice. Not only 
must the grounds be as above described, 
but the particular ground must be dis- 
tinctly specified. In Thompson v. Reho- 
both^ it is said, *^ They find only that some 
of the charges were proved, without 

1 If, howeT«r, putlM pledge themMlret to abide 
by the decMon, another rale enten : '' If the de- 
fendantu did agree to abide by, and perform, the 
determloatioD of the Coaocil, and if the Cooocil did 
make an award in panoanoe of the authority giren 
to them, we hare no doubt that, under the ciroum- 
•tancei of thii caw, [not peculiar,] its speeiflo per- 
formance miiy be decreed by a Court of Equity.'* 
** If . . . . both partive agree to anbmit fhdr contro- 
▼wrslea to a Mutual Council, it is difllcult to pereeiTe 
any reaaon why they should not be bound by Its 
decisions, aoeordiog to the long established and well 
known law of this OMDmonwMlth.^ Stwnu «. 
Bedford, 



specifying which of them. Now as acme 
of the charges do not of themselves fur- 
nish grounds of compulsory removal, it 
may be, for ought the record shows, that 
these alone were proved." Hence the 
decision was invalid ; nor was parole evi- 
dence admitted to show which were 
proved. 

Further still. *« The Court always look 
behind the adjudication ; and before the 
result can be received as evidence, or 
allowed to have any validity, they will 
examine the proceedings to ascertain 
whether there was a suitable case for the 
convocation of an Ecclesiastical Council; 
whether the members were properly 
selected ; whether they proceeded impar- 
tially in their investigation ; whether 
their adjudication was so formally made,** 
that it might be seen that they acted with 
due regard to the rights of the parties, 
and that they founded their decittion 
upon grounds which will sustain it In 
short, the doctrine of these cases is, that 
the Result of a Council is only prima 
facie evidence." 

The doctrine then, as to the force of 
the decision of a Council seems to be 
this : If sufficient " reasons" are supposed 
to exist for calling a Council; if it is 
fairly and properly called ; if its proceed- 
ings are impartially conducted; if its 
decision is clear, and alleges what facts 
it has found to exist as the grounds of 
its advice ; if those facts are sufficient 
legally to justify the decision ; then that 
decision, (whether of a Mutual or Ex- 
parte Council) is, so far as facts are con- 
cerned, conclusive, and a Court would 
not go behind its statement of facts ; and, 
while its advice is not of itself binding, 
yet either party adopting it and conform- 
ing thereto, will be legally justified by 
that decision. If controversy arises, the 
Court will examine so far as to see that 
all things have been done fairly and 
regularly, but will not review the evi- 
dence. The efiect of such a decision, ii 
such as to preclude the necessity of a 
second Council. Its decision is finaL In 



1869.] 



Chrmedum 



I f 



Burrv, Sandtoichj it was declared that 
an acquittal by a Council, justifies the 
par^ charged, in forever refusing *Uo 
call another on the same chaise." In 
HoUis Street v. PierporU, it was decided 
Uiat an acquittal by Mutual Council 
precluded the party accusing from giving 
further evidence in a court of justice ; 
their decision ended the matter. In WhU- 
more v. Fourth Congregational Society in 
Plymouth (2 Gray,) it was decided that 
the action of a parish, neglecting to state 
in their vote of dismissal, their reasons, 
in asserted anterior immorality, was null 
and void from that neglect; nor could 
they afterwards be allowed to diow what 
the reasons were. 

The whole matter b sufficiently plain. 
The confusions which so frequently occtir, 
arise simply from a neglect of those clear, 
practical, common-sense, Congregational 
principles which our Courts have upheld. 
There is no injustice in any of them. 
The recollection that a contract exists, 
will prevent any honorable parish from 
assuming to declare it null. The provis- 
ions for a Mutual Council only provide 
for a fair hearing before impartial persons, 
to which no man can object The re- 
quirement, that the grounds shall be 
distinctly specified, is one which meets 
every one's sense of fairness. The spe- 
cification of certain distinct grounds, 
merely assures parties that they shall have 
a fair trial. An unreasonable refusal to 
join, is met by the provision for an Ex- 
parte Council. And when the decision is 
rendered, the law merely says, " having 
obtained the opinion of an impartial 
body of men called together according to 
your own time-honored usages, you shall 
be sustained in >taking the facts to be as 
they have found them, and in acting 
accordingly." 

It will be seen that the legal decisions 
as to the grounds which will sustain the 
compulsor)' dismissal of a pastor, are ex- 
ceedingly stringent The spirit which 
has actuated the judges evidently is a 
' regard for the dignity and permanency of 

VOL. X. 28 



Pastor and People. 177 

the pastoral relation. But they fiul to 
meet the requirements of religion. Are 
the interests of Christ's kingdom to be 
sacrificed because no legal forfeiture can 
be proved? Yet if the pastor^s influence 
is ended by the fault of others, ought he 
still to insist on his contract ? We say, 
no. If we said " yes," we should assert 
that, not the good of the cause, nor his 
own usefulness, was to be made promi- 
nent, but merely that justice must be done 
him, — as if justice ever were done in 
this world. No. Let the minister preach 
Christ and Him crucified ; if he is driven 
off, especially by those of his own house- 
hold, it .is hard to be borne, but let Inm 
shake off the dust from his feet and go 
elsewhere. The world is broad enough ; 
the harvest is great; the laborers are few. 
It is a privilege to preach Jesus, not a 
merit ; a privilege, though in a hovel, and 
in the midst of trials. And if he is hard- 
ly treated, let him look to another day for 
recompense ; there is a world which sets 
this to rights. 

But the fact that abstract rights are 
often insisted on, is making, in some lo- 
calities, a great change in the condition of 
the pastorate. It has led the Baptists to 
the practice already alluded to, and also 
to retaining the control of the pastoral 
relation in the hands of the people. It 
has brought many of our own churches to 
the determination not to settle a minister 
except upon the condition that either 
party may discontinue the connection, by 
giving, without reasons, a notice of three, 
six, or more, months. It has disposed 
many other, weak churches, not to settle 
a pastor, but to employ a minister from 
year to year, as ** stated supply." ^ And 
the policy is gaining ground, that, either 
a manifest failure, by imprudencies, or 
unfitness, to retain the affections of a peo- 
ple, should be a further valid reason for 
separation, or that the churches and soci- 

1 According to Um MMMchoMtta Mloates for 18B8, 
of the 482 chorohet, 70 were witboal patton or 
•tated tappIlM, 64 had atattd mppUw, ft&d 848 had 
paaton, of which quite • laiga nnmitat ii« iitUid 
on tho ** Botieo " plaa. 



178 



UnffUsh Otniffr^alianal PuhUeatiatiM. 



[Afbii^ 



edes should retain the actual control of 
the tenure of office, hy suitable provisions 
in the contract 

Of the great principles which underlie 
iiie outward structure of the pastoral rela- 
tion, we forbear to speak ; of Uiese, an- 
other, and experienced writer in pastoral 
matters, will treat. But it ought to be 
remembered both by pastors and churches, 
that the only bond worth retaining, is 
that of mutual Christian affection. When 
this ceases, the sooner the outward tie 
ends, the better. To maintain such 



affection in full strength should be the 
object of both parties. A kind, affection- 
ate, laborious, independent (not fractious,) 
performance of duty by die pastor, — a 
£uthful, willing, and active cooperation by 
the Church ; a mutual forbearance, in the 
remembrance of common frailties and 
errors ; and a supreme, submissive, pray- 
erful, devotion by each one to our Lord 
and Saviour, would be not only the pre- 
servative of all pastoral bonds that ought 
to be preserved, but the secret, to each, 
of Christian success. 



PUBLICATIONS OF THE CONGREGATIONAL UNION OF ENG- 
LAND AND WALEa 

BT SEV. JOSEPH S. CLABX, D.D. 



Wb place over this article a heading 
which the reader may understand to be 
significant of ten volumes, on shelf 70 of 
the Congregational Library, varying in 
size from 200 duodecimo pages, to 650 
octavo, the whole bound in uniform calf 
gilt, with the following inscription, printed 
in gold letters on the outside of each : 

PEnilfTlD 
BT THI 

GONORXOATIONAL UNION 

OF ENGLAND & WALES, 

TO 

THE OONORBOATIONAL LIBRARY, 

BOSTON, 

Uhitid Statu. 

With this glittering sentence flashing 
full in the reader's face every time he 
opens one of these volumes, he hardly 
need be told that the gift is among the 
first fruits of a fraternal correspondence, 
which promises a rich harvest to both 
Associations, provided this husbandry of 
Christian fellowship be continued, as it is 
their mutual wish to continue it 

Of these publications, the first in chro- 
nological order, as also the largest, and 
by far the most valuable, is Hanbury's 
Historical Memorials, in three volumes 
royal octavo, containing, in the aggre- 
gate, 1,828 closely printed pages. The 



modest title, ** Historical Collections re- 
lating to the Independents or Congrega- 
tionalists, from their rise to the restora- 
tion of monarchy, A. D., MDCLX," 
scarcely begins to inform the reader what 
a vast store-house of rich and rare, and 
well arranged documents he is entering. 
If, however, afler reading a short preface, 
he will glance his eye over the thirty-six 
pages which it takes to give the mere 
headings and contents of the eighty-five 
chapters into which the whole is divided, 
there will rise upon his imagination a 
tolerably adequate idea of what is before 
him. 

While the Congregational Union of 
England and Wales tell us, through their 
Committee, that they '*have zealously 
promoted the publication " of this great 
work, they desire to have it known that 
** the undivided responsibility of author- 
ship " belongs to Mr. Hanbury ; '* and 
whatever honor is due to the fidelity, 
patience and skill with which the mate- 
rials have been collected and arranged, is 
exclusively his own." 

The object of the author's laborious 
undertaking, and the issue to which his 
untiring industry has brought it, cannot 
be better set forth than in the following 



1859.] EngUah Cbnffreffoiumal Publicatums. Vt9 

paragraph finom his preface : — " A histori- Deacon Hanburj makes no sach claim ; 

cal collection — Corpns Historicum — ade- though ** some advantages, he apprehends, 

quate in all respects to the present and will have resulted from his not being 

still increasing importance of the Chris- swayed by any professional interest to 

tian Denomination to which the author is seek to elevate unduly the pastoral office 

confirmed in his attachment, afWr a sys- and character." 

tematic scrutiny more persevering than Commencing with Robert Browne and 
perhaps any other layman ever engaged << the Brownists/' and winding up with 
in — is yet a deficiency in ecclesiastical Thomas Venner and the " Fifth Monarchy 
literature. So successful has been the Men " — a space of nearly a century's 
accumulation of contumely heaped by duration — ^tbese Historical Memorials con- 
interested parties upon our sires, that they tain notices, more or less full, of every 
who should have inherited their spirit important person, paper and event, on 
have been deterred from searching into eidier side of the water, which the author 
their merits, and from duly dbplaying deemed capable of illustrating his subject 
their virtues. Their very names seemed No transaction or document appears to be 
about to be lost Now, however, enough passed by because of its unfavorable 
is recovered to evince that our predeces- aspect towards the Independents ; nor 
sors — our Fathers and Confessors — were pressed into service, merely because it 
mighty in word and deed ; and that to would serve them. Yet is he able to say, 
the dismay of their calumniators, their |n the concluding paragraph of the last 
renown is spreading far and wide, with volume : *' If a synopsis of the results of 
the dominion to which they and their our labors in the Historical Memorials be 
immediate descendants gave existence, looked for, the following is submitted as 
and which promises to be as enduring as among the leading points which make up 
the world.'* the sum of these results. Herein, obloquy 
The work is munly documentary, and derived from the Brownists, is removed : 
the compiler's plan in arranging the doc- The personal characters of the earliest 
uments has been to ** dispose the words promoters of Independency are estab- 
and deeds in the closest connection with lished beyond the possibility of success in 
what occasioned them." Nothing could any future attempt seriously to damage 
be more simple ; nothing more satisfac- them : The body of the Independents is 
tory than this arrangement The Con- relieved from the censure of groundless 
gregationalists and their opposers are both separation : Political and Ecclesiastical 
allowed to tell their own story, to argue facts and principles are brought out, which 
their own cause, and, as near as possible, an unjustifiable timidity allowed to be 
they are brought up in immediate con- covered with apparent neglect : — Inde- 
nection, face to face. This arrangement pendents possess withal, a denominational 
gives an almost dramatic interest to what work comprising a continuation of docu- 
would otherwise be insufferably dry. To mentary evidence not exceeded in inter- 
abridge long documents without pervert- est and importance by any, in its depart- 
ing their sense; to connect historical ment of ecclesiastical literature." So 
events so as to keep up the proper much for the first in this series of publica- 
sequence of cause and effect ; to explain tions. 

the manifold relations of persons and The second in chronological order is a 

parties to the subject in hand, which the duodecimo volume of 896 pages, entitled 

author is all the while under the necessity " Jethro : A system of Lay Agency, in 

of doing, requires more complete exemp- connection with Congregational churches, 

tion from human prejudice and infirmity for the diffusion of the gospel among our 

than most mortals will dare to claim. Home Population." Thb is a prize essay. 



182 



Oomgregaticml Thedhgiedl SenrnwUs. [ Aran^ 



tiiat as granted, our 2,600 clmrclies need 
an annual sapplj of 180 ministen, to say 
nothing of the waste places to be ex- 
plored. The following table ennmerates 
the students in oar seminaries, from which 
we are, sabetantialljr, to receive onr sup- 
plies; — the number to be lessened by 
death, bj those who become foreign mis- 
nonaries, hy future teachers, and by those 
who fail to complete their course. It is 
with a view to its bearing upon our future, 
as well as to make a permanent historical 
record, that we present the following 
table. 

!«— THEOLOGICAL SKMINART, BANQOB, Ms. 

PiORasois. 

BcT. BvooB Poin>,i Prcrideiir, Proftnor of SeelMl- 
dMtietd Htetoiy, and Lceiurar on Panlocml Daiics. 

Rtr. Gious Bbspaed, ProfetMr of Sacred Rhetorie. 

Ber. Darul Taloor Skitb, Profenor of Sacred Lit* 
entore* 

B«r. Bawjil HAmut, Proftunr of Christian Theology. 
RniDin LiouiTJATn. 



U.O. 



B.O. 


usr 


w.c. 


1857 


W.O. 


1866 


B.a 1866 


B.C. 


1867 


A.O. 




B.G. 


1868 


B.G. 


1868 


B.O. 


1866 


D.O. 


— 


B.O. 


1866 


Wat.0. 


1868 



NamtM, Ruidtnet. 

Thomas H. Rich, Bangor, 

Geoffge H. Shepud, do. 

JMni B. ThozHon, do. 

(6) 

SimoB Claib. 

NamtM and Raiiitnee. 

J. B. C. BeauUeo, BarltngUm, Tt. 

WiUlam H. Bcemm, Bomon, Ms. 

George P. CUtlln, Upton, Ms. 

Henry T. Emmcns, HtUowell, 

K. B. Glidden. Newcastle, 

8. Gerard Noreross, Dixfield, 

Bdwln B. Palmer, Belfast, 

Bdwin P. Parker, do. 

Chaxles B. Rke, Conway, Ms. 

M. L. lUcbardMn, Winchester, Ms. 

Thomas S. Bobk, Gorham, 

(11) 

MiDDLB Class. 

Daniel E. Adams, Keene, N. U. 

Smith Baker, Jr., Litchfield, 

vBamoel D. Bowker, BIddeford, 

Lewis 0. Brascow, Brewer, 

John W. Obickering, Portland, 

Walter E Darling, Sc. Stephens, N. B. 

Andrew Fosdick, Merrimack, N. H. 

David S. Hibbard, Usbon, N. H. 

S. C. Higgios, Tbomdike, 

Rowland B. Howard, Leeds, 

Benjamin W. Pond, Bangor, 

George A. Patnam, Dunbarton, N. H. 



Aoct of Theo. Ed. 
Bangor, 
do. 
do. 



Graduauid.* 
R.U. 



A.C. 1864 



B.C. 1866 
B C. 1866 

A.C. 1866 
B.C. 1866 



B.C. 1867 
B.O. 1853 
B.C. 1857 

B.C. 1857 

B.C. 1866 
B.C. 1867 
U.C. 



1 Finding that in seTeral of the Seminary Cata- 
logues the title of " D.D." does not appear, we have 
oonelnded to omit it from all the members of the 
Tarions faculties, lest, in attempting to supply the 
lack, we should commit some sad blunder; we wish 
It distinctly understood, bowvrer, that each of tha 
Piotaton Is alxMdj a ** D J>V' or dmnrtf to ba. 



JokB G. BUkir, Botloa, lb. 

Charles Whlttiar, B-AmMtazy 

(U) 

JunoB Class. 

BbnMMT Bean, Conway, N. H. 

Charles F. Boyaton, WiseasMtt, 

Israel Carlton, HaTerhUl, Ms. 

James P. Chambsrlatai, Honohulu, 8. 1. 

C. B. Daggsti, Giwne, 

Samuel 8. Gardner, Brewtr, 

Charles L. Nichols, Stark, 

Geocge H. PIckard, Pwdiind, 

Edwin BMd, Bath, 

Isaiah P. Smith, Bridgton, 

Samuel W. Tenney, Norrldgwuek, 

Horaoe Toothaker, Holden, 

Joseph Walker, Portland, 

John 0. Watson, Gllfbrd, N. H. 

G. C. WllsoD, Jefferson, 

(16)TozAL,48. 

n— THEOLOGICAL SEBONART, ANDOTSR, Ml. 

Eacultt. 

RcT. Caltot E. Siowb, Assodata Protswr of Saerad 
Literature. 

Rer. EowAEM A. Pais, Abbot Professor of Christian 

Theology. 

ReT. Eluah p. BAmmows, Hitchcock Professor of the 
Hebrew Language and Literature. 

Ber. Ausrn Phb.p8» Bardet Professor of Saeied 
Rhetoric. 

ReT. WoLXAii G. T. Shspb, Brown Professor of Bed. 
History, and Lecturer on Pastoral Theology. 

Prof. WouAM Rubsill, Teacher of Etoeutfam. 
Prof. GioBAS F. Root, Ttoeher of Music. 

Rmnun LionrriATn. 

Namet and Residenet, CM. Sun. 

William J. Batt, Fall RiTer, B.U. AndoTor. 

Charles R. Blisa, Longmeadow, W.C. do. 

t ABBREVIATIONS OF NAMB3 OF COLLEGES. 

Al.C. Alleghany College, Pa. 

A.C. Amherst College, Ms. 

Bel.C. Beloit College, Wis. 

B.C. Bowddn Cullego, Me. 

B.U. Brown Unlrersityi R- 1* 

D.C. Dartmouth Ccllege, N. H. 

F.C. Farmer's College. 

H.U. Harrard College, Ms. 

la.C. Iowa College, Iowa, 

inc. Illinois Collet, lU. 

K.C. Knox College, IlL 

L.U. London Uni?ersity, England. 

M.U. Madison Unirersliy, N. T. 

Mar.C. MarietU College, Ohio. 

M.C. MiJdlebury Collpge, Yt. 

N.J.C. New Jersey College, N. J. 

N.T.F.A. New York Free Academy, N. T. 

O.C. Oberlln College, Ohio. 

R.U. Rochester Unirenity, N. T. 

U.C. Union College, N. T. 

U.Yt. Uniyerdty of Termont, Yt. 

Wab.C. Wabash College, lod. 

Wat.C. Watcrvitle College, Me. 

W.R.C. Western Reserte College, Ohio. 

W.C. Williams Colkge, Mf. 

W.U. Wesleyan UnlTersi^, Ct. 

T.C. Tale Callage, Ct. 



1859.] 



Congr^aHotuU Theologiedl Semmariet. 



n-DD- 1 D-,(Lt. Port 
0. L. 6v<irl\, Ctlibi. V 



, ABdotv. IntikS J 



. Andonir. Ch.cIh E. Mllllkcn, Rmh*, N. H. 



183 



OnufttaUd. Samual BcDillio. UVgi Cornmll, Ot. 



BnJ.Di 

AnputDi 



0. WMdilttk, Ot W.O. 



b b. FBIr^DUd, f Juihibg. li. 1. f 

,'l P. Gilbert, Hid. aruTUta, H. T. 
iX-OcDdrteb. Htmdali, 
• Ooii, Lover Wuecfiinl, Tt. 

, 'I 
Cdila B. Unlbm, B 



■Id, CbMtir, H. B. 
, HoDino, p>. 
.iQjfr, Altnar.ll. r, 

ITilsoD, !>llJ<]ltUlD, 

It. ai;ad,ob:o, 
lb, HobukiD, N J. 



Edw(nli>. tVilkir, Amorllle.O. 1 

JrucA. Wllklio, B<T.il;, 
HnrrD. Woodnonli, AniloTn, 
Alb*n 1. Touif, [Usonc, H. B. 

(Ml 



D.Vt. ISiS Wllllioi 



Obulw V. Abbott, Puuu, O. 
LadMi H. Aluii, Dnrr, N. B. 
WaltnB.AItiudnr, Killlngli.O 



AlamaD S, button, Niv Uiven. Tt. 
Itanlit Bllw, W*rr», 
Wllllmiu II. Bovfii, N. PcotMiIK*, R. I. 
e. Huiwil liutiir, Kotthwnpua, 
Andn> J li'lapp, gOBttalHBploll, 
Orotp I(, fl.rk, Oror*ta, Vt 
JOMpb B. Clirk, WiM N*«t0B. 

Piritj B. [MTli, 



I, K. H. 



<, BMmu, HMdtem, 



Ont] N. AldtD, Hooiick Fi>m N. Y. 
Sui'l K. Aibarj, UiDltj, SuS'ifa. Bei 
Oairgi 1. Bud, Derbj, Vt. 

dioigcA B»kHlita. SbIi-di.Ci, 
<Jaorgct). UiKOfl, Qrn/tDD, 

WUItuu Oirc, Iicrc;, :t. U. 

WilUw Cnwfbrd, Bun, 

Bkhud CriiWDdon. EyruoH, H. 1. 

Tamphi Cuilir, HaiulllOD, 

Alouo t. beintDi, >11dillibiir]>, Vl. 

John W. Doiifr, NaHborr pon. 



BlAnI B. UuoD, Hllnulix, WK. 
L*l>lr E. MUHm, OiHfa, N. Y, 
CbulH V. Hod, Uoniwdl, Tl. 

Ptfr NultlDV, Ifgcbuje Filli, M*. 

""' "..TotHCII,. 



BdntilU. r 



I. P..I[, N«" V.>rlt<;itJ, N.I.F.A. 



CdnrdN iiadilud, OUnuuul, M 
Jobs B. UiDDS, >£■ rotk I'll}, 

C. 0. BiUDpiuiVi IlFIM>, lea*, 



Itlu.V WokoIl,-t.lllu.dB»,0. 
ucK. b. H «>d>»rib, L^m.. H. H. 
ruiteB B. Wllcbt, OtMlBB^ O. 
(OlToiUiUB. 



184 



Cbnfft^faidfua Theohffuua JSmihdHh. [AMl, 



m:-TBXOU>QlOlL DIPAltntBNT, TALI OOL. 
Niw Hativ, Gt. 

Vacdltt. 

Ber. Thiodou D. Wooubt, Preftdent. 

JOBAH W. Qbbs, ProfeMor ofSMnd Utentan. 

Ber. BLBAum T. VnoB, LMtorer on HomitofeiM. 

BtT. GiAuiroBT A. Ooo^BiOB, ProtaMtt of Um Pm- 
toml Charge. 

BtT. NoAB PoBTU, (Aetlof ) OlMk ProfiMM»r of Moiml 
Philoiophy and Metaphjsics. 

Ber. QiouM P. Vnauh UTlngitOB Pioft«or of 
DlTinhj. 

ToiOTsr DwiasT, Aniftant ProfoMor of Sacnd 
Literaton. 

RoiDurr InmriATis. 

Name$ and Rttidenu. Qrad. Stm. 

John Onno Baird, MUlbr^ T.C. 1862. Talo. 

William B.Dwigiit,Ooiurtaadiiop]*,T.O. 18M. Talo. 

Thooaa 8. Potwin, Now Hatoii, T.O. Tate. 

Sitnom OCAAi. 

John H. Ankotell, New Haron, T.C. 1866 

WUliam A. Boahw, WoreMter, Mi. T.C. 1866 

John Bdgar, QrMnwieh, T.O. 1866 

(8) 

MEDBU GLAtt. 

JoMph N Halloek, FnuikUoTiUo, L. I. T.C. 1867 

Horaea H. MeFarland, Naw Naran, T.C. 1863 

Jnatln Martin, New Tork CI^, T.C. 1866 

Wilder Smith, Hirtford, T.C. 1867 

JumoB CLAas. 

Ooorge B. Bacon, New Haven, 

Mardn S. Eiobelberger, Tork, Pa. T.C. 1868 
Bdgar L. Heermanoe, Kinderbook, N. T. T.C. 1868 

Philander H. Holliater, New Pxeeton, 

Daniel A. Miles, Worcester, Ms. T.C. 1868 

Chauncey D. Murray, Madison, 

Lari L. Paine, East Randolph, Ms. T.C. 1866 

Blisha S. Thomas, Wickford, R. I. T.C. 1868 

Timothy K. Wilcox, New Haren, T.C. 1866 
(9) 

Not Dbsioratbb. 

Solomon J. Dooglass, New Hayen. 
Jeweu G. Smith, New Haven. 
(2) T0TA^21. 

IT.— THBOLOQICAL INSTITUTB OF CONN., 
Bajt WiMDBoa Hill, Coim. 



Vaoultt. 

Ber. WuxuM Tbompsow, Nettleton Proftssor of Bib- 
lical Literature. 

Ber. Bdwaed A. LAwmnroi, Waldo Professor of 
Bcciediiucical Ulfltory and Pastoral Duty. 

Be?. RtOBBET Vbbmiltb, Professor of Christian The- 
ology. 

RniBBHT Qbaduatb. 

Nam* cmd Reiidene*. CoU. Bern. 

AlpheusJ. Pike,Topsfleld,Ms. D.C. 1866. Theo.Ins. 
(1) 

Sbhiob Clabb. 

Nam** and Ruidence. CotUgt. 

WiUiam A. Halloek, New Haren, Ct. A.C. 1866 

Bira Haskell, Dover, N. H. 

Henry S. Kelsey, BransviUe, N. T. A.C. 1866 

George A. Miller, Lyme, Ct. W.C. 1866 

■lyah Bobbins, Westford, Ct. T.C. 1866 
(6) 

MiOBLB OlABB. 

John B. Blliott, New London, Ct. A.O. 1867 

AoBtlA Oardnar, BaBt Windsor Hill, 0(. W.U. 1868 



deiotga Goodfteli, BbbI Windsor fam, Oi. W.C. 1867 
Henry W. Jonas, Hudson, Mich. AC. 1867 
Henry Powers, New Salem, Ms. 

(6) 

JonoB Claw. 

Lyman Bartlett, North Hadl^, Mb. A.O. 1866 

Walter Barton, Granby, Ms. A.C. 1866 

Charles H. Bissell, Beat Windsor HOl, Ct. W.C. 1868 
James W. Gmsh, FaU River, Ms. W.C. 1868 

Stephen Harris, FiUwiUiam, N. B. A.O. 1868 

Samuel B. Hoar, Uttleton, Ms. D.O. 1868 

Alden Ladd, Johnson, Tt. 

Herman Ollendorf, Hartford, Ot. 

Xdward A. Pieree, Tallmadge, 0. W.C. 1866 

Irvin St. John, Bdinboro-, Pa. 

Bichard D. WlUiama, New Marlboro*, Ms. 

(11) Total, 22. 

▼.— THBOLOGICAL DBPABTMENT, OBBBUV 
COLLBGB, Obbblih, Ohio. 

Faodltt. 

Bev. Obabub G. Fihitbt, PrtsldMit, and rrnfcsBoi of 
Theology, and of Mental and Moral PIkllosophy. 

Bev. John Moboav, ProaMsor of BiMleal Llcantaie. 

Cbablbb H. Pbicfibld, Instmetor of Hebrew. 

Bev. Hbnbt B. Pick, Profisaor of Saetad RhMorfc, 
and Adjunct Profhssor of Mental and Monl Phi- 
losophy. 

Bev. Jambs B. Walku, Lcetnrsr on the HatmMiTef 
Science with Bevealed Beligion. 

Assoeiate Professor of IlMolflgy. 

Sbitiob Class. 



OrttAUiiM.1 



Names and Ruidinee. 
Alexander Bartlett, Putnam, 
John G. W. Cowles, OberUn, 

Henry C. Hitchcock, do. — 

WlllUm Kendriek, Blisabethtown, 

S. Frank Millikan, Lyndon, HI. 
Johnnon Wright, Whitehall, N. T. 
(6) 

MiDBLB Clabb. 

George H. AUep, Fall River, Ms. 

John F. Bonghton, Wolcott, N. T. 

Henry W. Carpenter, Oberlin, 

B. Mllo Cravath, Saratoga, Minn. 
Robert Hovenden, Ingersoll, C. W. 

D. Jerome Jones, Jackson, Mich. 

€korge Juchau, London, Bug. _- . ..... 

Charles Thompson, Brooklyn, N. T. 

Otis B. Waters, Union City, Mieh. 

(9) 

JiTinoB Clabb. 

E. Hudson Baker, Battle Creek, Mich. 
William M. Brooks, Laporte. 

John H. Crumb, Pbarsalia, N. T. 

Henry Matson, Oberlin, .^». __ 

J. D. Millard, Marietta, 

Leroy G. Warren, Russia. 
(6) Total, 21. 

YI.— CHICAOO THEOLOGICAL 8XMINABT, 
Chioaoo, iLLUOa. 

Faoultt. 

Bev. JoBBPB Hatbm, Carpenter PraftBsor of Stb- 
tematic Theology. 

Rev. Samubl C. Babtlbit, Prolbasor of BibUeal Tiia- 
ology. 



1 We are nnabte to flU out this eohuaa ; a dash 
dssi g nat as bars, bb elsawhars, suoh as an not gmd- 



1859.] 



Congregational Theological Seminaries. 



185 



Brr. F. W. Viui, Profiffsor of Sacred Rhetoric and 

Homiltftirg. 

Kejres Profctior of Ecclesiutlcal History. 

LBCTDRBRfl. 

The following gentlemen are appointed ai LectareiB 
on topics specially assigned by the Directors : 

Rev. Edward Bskcrks, on Charch Institutions. 

Rev. Jonathan Blancbard, on the connection of the 
OIJ and Nhw Tesumencs. 

Rer. A. M. SturtbvamTi Relation of Seoti to the 
Charch. 

Rev. H. L. Crapih, 

ReT. J. B. Wauur, The connection of Science and 
Religion. 

ScnoR Clam. 

Nanus and Residence. Oraiuated. 

Charles M. Barnes, Galesburg, K.O. 18&6 

Daniel H. Blake, do. K.C. 1856 

Henry 0. McArthnrf Chicago, K.C. 1866 

Stephen Morrill, St. Johnsbury, Tt. D C. 1856 

Robert Samuel, Bamet, Tt. D.O. 1866 
(6) 

MisDLB Class. 
[It was thonght best not to organise a Middle dais 
the first year.] 

JoHxoB Class. 
Frederic W. Beeeher, Oalesbarg, 
George Dana Blodgettt Pawtucket, R. I. 
William Loals Bray, Slk Orore, Wis. 
SamM Watson Brown, Winehendon, lis. 
Mleah Sampson Croeweli, Chicago, 
Benjiunin Durham, Jr. do. 

George T. Higley, Ashland, Ms. 
Wm. Henry Uildreth, Darenport, la. 
Edwin Luther Jaggar, Burlington, la. 
John W. Miller, Jacksonrille, 
Farquharson Q. McDonald, Dubuque, la. 
Alexander Parker, Irvine, Scotland, 
James Parker, Chicago, 
Jacob P. Richards, Museada, Wis. ' 
Swing Ogden Tade, Denmark, la. 



W.O. 1867 

AC. 1868 

T.C. 1860 

A.C. 1866 

B.C. 1864 

A.C. 1867 

Ia.C. 1856 

Ia.C. 1867 

I.e. 1868 

0.0. 1868 



Ia.G. 1868 



[spbcul ooumsi.] 
J. Wing Allen, Sylvaola, 0. 
Frederic Alley, Johnstown, Wis. 
DaviUo William Comstock, Galesburg, Mich. 
Henry Metcalf Daniels, Enfield, Ms. 
Charles Hancock, M.D., Dover. 
Charles Alexander Ueirey, Chicago. 
Eiward Uildreth, Sterling, Ms. 
Isaac Bakiir Smith, Princeton. 
Frederick Wheeler, Waukesha, Wis. 
(24) Total, 29. 

From the above lists we gather the fol- 
lowing Summary of Students : 

Clasbb. 



Bangor, 

Andover, 

Tale, 

East Windsor, 1 

Ooerlin, 

Chicago, 



. Grad. 


Sen. 


Mid. 


Jun. 


Total. 


8 


11 


U 


16 


43 


8 


86 


42 


48 


129 


8 


a 


4 


9 


•21 


,1 


6 


5 


11 


22 





6 


9 


6 


21 





6 





24 


29 



Total, 16 



66 



74 



108 



266 



By which it will be seen that we 'have 
a fair prospect of the graduation, this year, 
of 66 persons, now members of the Senior 
classes ; or, if every one should enter upon 
the actual work of the ministry, we have a 
little more than one half of the number 
most immediately and urgently needed. 



It may not be amiss, in this connection, to 
insert the number of Theological Seminaries 
belonging to the denomination, with which we 
interchange ministers, — as represented in their 
latest reports. 

The Presbttbkians of the United States 
are classified into nine distinct bodies, not 
reckoning a few churches attached to foreign 
organizations, and omitting a fragment or 
two. Of those bodies, six report themselves as 
haying Seminaries as follows : 



Old School. 
Prloreton, N. J., 
Western. Pa., 
Union, Va., 
Danville, ICy., 
Columbia, S. C, 

New School, 
Union, N. Y., 
Lane, 0., 
Auburn, N. T^ 
So. Western, Tenn., 



Orad, 

Fro/t. Students. Uutmat. 

I 182 29 

4 96 37 

4 21 7 

8 40 9 

6 40 9 



6 

4 
8 
2 



Blackburn, 111., Mot organiasd. 

United Presbyttrian. 
Newburgh, N. Y., 2 
Allefchanjr, Pa., 8 

Xenia. 0., 2 

Oxford, 0., 2 

Reformed Presbjfterlan Omtral Sjfnod, 
2 



Associate Reformed Synod of the South, 
Ersklne, 1 

Cumberland. 
Cumberland, Tenn., — 6 

Bethel, Tenn., — 16 

Or, the Seminaries (in operation,) tad 
churches compare thus : 



Old School. 
New School. 
United Fresoyterian, 
Beformed Preeb/terlan 

General Synod, 
Associate Reformed 

Synod of the South, 
Cumberland, 



Seminarlsi. 
6 

4 
4 



1 
2 



Ch's. 

8,867 

1,686 

676 

88 

iVblrqi. 



Minlstan. 

2,468 

1,618 

429 



• Including two whose class is not designated. 



In addition to these, as reported bj the 
bodies themselves, the American Almawy^y 
for 1859 mentions,— 

frofy, Stud^ttt 
Theo. Dep. West'n IlessrTe OoIL, C, 8 * 14 ' 
New Albany, 0., 8 16 

at in operation in 1857-8. 



VOL. I. 



24 



M ^ Mxtb^-ff&tUSii [J^abf 



.': '. t a 



HEETING-HOnSES : 

fcONtoffltED iistoiacALLY AND stooifekirinEtf . 

BT RBT. H. M. DBZTBB.^ 



' It wiU lidt ktk ^teciddkt of ettinoldinr service at ftinends, the tAMervitn6e of 
wbicli caiiaed Hie not yeiy coinpiict nor Christmas, kc. Sec., led th6m tb a jposltioil 
^phonioos compoimd standing at the of feeling and practice in regard to edifices 
head of this article, to be so extensiyeij for Divine worship which was, no doubt, 
in vM in New Enj^and, as tibe designation d; kn e:fctreme resdove frbm thitt of those 
tf buildings s^i^l;^ ^i«<&ted fbr the wor- who harried them out of the green fields 
Pidpof &A At hbni^ otir Others h«d of Northeastern England. They were 
ezpMBneticecJf the legal f^U bbBged, at first, to McUuble by steahh, 
went out from the established Church and where they could. Bradford, in his 
must leave even the name which they had *' Plimouth Plaiitatioh,'* — so happily re- 
fticKni kccWcvitM tb -attach tb their con- covered of late from its supposed irrepara- 
secinted edifices, behind them; that if ble loss — says (p>^ll) they **kept their 
thegr woulj be dissenters, they intist go meetings every ISabodi in on^ pl»ce or 
wiinout ** dhurches'," and be eohtent with other, exercinng the worship of God 
some uncanonical and illeg&l shelter for aniongst themselves, notwithstanding all 
their irregular devotions. This set them y« diligence & malice of their advensa- 
to thinking of the Scriptufal aJB{)ect oi the ries." Thus naturally, as well as con- 
matter, and th^y Were not long in cothing scibntiously, before their emigration, they 
to the conclusion that th^ use Of the word grew to call the houses where they ** kept 
" Church " as the appellation o! tlie place their meetings,*' rOeetingAouses, And 
where the Church meets, is unatlthoHzed though neither the mdst convenient nor 
by th^ New Testament In their reaction elegant designation, ^ere is yet enough 
from an overdose of eeclesiasticism, the Of historic interest abotit the terai to en- 
same, circumstances which led them to dis- sure the indefinite continuance of its use 
card marriage by the minister, a religious among the sons of the fhthers of New 

1 To MT* eneamberiog the pi«« of this article England. 

with too fire^tent fook-botet, t iketo Bfire to make The first njoeting-places fbr Sabbath 

lenenl refertooe to th^ following »mhorfti:ei, which worship on this sbil, ^etk hOt evten tilfeet- 

haTe heeo eooniltod In Ui prepantion, tIz : Brad- . , Vrn ▼ 

toik^MMti^ 0/ i^mouth J^a^i^^^ mg-houses. The Jamestown company 

siastkal HUtory, and Annals of )SkiUm, aarrTs's first worshipped tlndet an AWning Of old 

jBRjiort 0/ Vorthesiery ttacSer's Hittwy of Ply- g^ils tied to three or fotir ti^es. The 

mowlA, Riuwtli*t Pilgrim Memorials, Fennusdn't dm* ^ ^.i^ • n ^ r j»j j 

^•book nf ArchiuliL, BarbT*. huOHM Col- ^'^^^"^ «P«^* ^^^'^ ^^^^ L*^"^ «-^*>' «°^^' 

ketions of Mom., Morton's thvo JSHii^Kimr* Ifiwio- the cedars of Clark's island ; Winthrop's 

no/, Clarke's Congtegaiionai C^ntnka of JfciM., company, under the kuge Charlestowh 

Bishop Meade's Old Chwrehes amd Families of Vir- 1...LT2 ^'Ui ^ j 

k^n.«. Lawi^nce's Nac ilampsMrs oHird^./ood. ^*^ ^ ^^^ Barnstable emigrants around 

ir^i's C/^srtjkss ttfLondony winkle'f JEntiuh «iiA«- the great rock at Mattacheeset ; the Mid- 




, f Haiit's hrr^* Ckwekes, San^^a History of dietowh company under the old ehn of 

J^'^'^^!'!^ .l.J^J^^ Mattabesett. And the " Conimort House " 

Morse's Sherbom and HoUtston, Crowell^s History of 

tiiezy Field's Ctnunffiai Addreu,Bi\^B^B FUhoboth, ^^ Plymouth, and the " Great House" at 

]ii|dington^s HUto^ V* ^ i<< CftWeA, ChSaiUstou^ Mishawum, served the purpose of Sabbath 

Drake's irUtory of Bo^.Baoot^n ^^^^ ^' worship as well as weekly dielter, untU 

comsu, and other Toim HiMJorws, Recoras, ind ^ 1^ j\ • « : «' 1 •^^ tj» 1. 

HW<»taii>im«M,too.ana.uMm»aoD. <»««• ttaKi^ and niatemb could b« 



1859.] 



Meding-S[qu9e8. 



w 



■pared for the erection of a meeting-hoase. 
In the mminer of 1622, the FlymoQth 
colonists, u Bradford tayt, {PItm. Plan., 
p. IS6,) " builte & fort widi' good timber, 
both strong and come)]', which was of 
good defence, made with « date rafe ft 
batllmeots, on which tbdr ordnance were 
mounted, and wber they kepta coDstante 
watcb, espetiallj in time of danger. It 
serred them allso for a meeting-hon«e, 
and was fitted accordinglj for that use."' 
This seems to have been occupied bj 
diem for public worship nntil I64S, when 
it is recorded that a meeting-hoiue was 
erected — dimensions not given — with a 
bell tart«t, which stood tilll683; when a 
new one took its place, 45 ft. by 40 ft, 
and 16 ft. in the walls, nnceiled, vritb diai- 
mond glass, and a small cupola for the 
belL 

The Charlestown and fioston Church 
appear to have worsbippod in the " Great 
House " until so tai^ge a number had re- 
moved to the Boston side of the Cbsries 
river, as to make it inconvenient to croM 
the &TTJ, when meetings were held nnder 
the trees on Copps hill, or in private 
dwellings, until the return of Wilson from 
England in 1632, when £120 was raised 
hy voluntaiy contribution for the erection 



of a house of worship, and of one for Hr. 
Wibon.on the Boston nde, — the CbaiW 
town people buTing the " Great House" 
for £10, and nnng that ftr their Sabbath 
convenience nutil 1639. Wilson's meat 
ing-honse was immediately put np, on the 
south ade of what is State street, on the 
spot now occnpied by " Bracer's Build- 
ing.'' It had mud walls and a thatched 
roof, and the following is believed to be a 
tolerably correct reprenentation of its gen- 
eral appearance, and is interesting as in- 
dicaliog the external auspices of pubti6 
worship in Boston during the first teil 
years of its history as a town. 




BhHuiHit, m Dtnohir ot Um But IniUk Conipur— 
who vu BccnIUT at Um Nev NtUmlud ColoDj , 
■ad In lliat capicltj amnpoadFd idth Oot. Bnd- 



d PljKK 



lBlffi7)ir 



mipUoa of tbi PUiHin MUhownt, from ■ tMIu. 
H<Bf(, "Upon Ibt hill Ouj tun ■ UifBi^iun 
boBM, irlih ■ BM mof, luda or CbJak iiiaB pUnlu, 
■lAjad wltb oaklHuu, apoD tbetopBT wbkb Uhj 
ban ilx cuBOu, which iih«at Ino tall* ef Anr ud 
At* ponDdi, uul ooDDtad ilHinmnDdlDimuUT. 
The Imnr put tbtj b» lot ttwlr ChuTsh, vbnv th<r 
pnftdh Oh Sundftji uid the uinal holldftji. Tb«j 

■nioek, In front of tht apt^'i dooi ; tbtj hiTC 






• ltd hj • 



auo in hli hud ; ud *o ther inanh In laod nd>r, 

tnuUUd bj J. R. Brodbaad, IB JIWHtTt ftlgriiK 
Mmtrialt, if. 131-147. 



Very Nmilar to this was the first BMet- 
ing-house in Dedham, erected in 1637 and 
occupied until 1673 ; which was a low 
building, 36 feet by 20 leet, and IS f^ 
high, with a thatched roof, upon which — 
by an ordinance of the town, passed fbr 
security against fire, — perinaneutly leaned 
a long ladder- As the popolating of Kew 
England went on, we find that one of the 
first acts of every settlement usually was 
to make arrangements fbr the building of 
a meeting-house, and that the idea which 
ruled in its erectiou was that of the sim- 
plest and cheapest place of convenient ' 
assemblage and shelter, while engaged in 
tAe worehip of God. Sometimes, as at 
Plymouth, the idea of protectiw was 
added. The first meeting-house of Dor- 
cluster was " Burroupded by palisadoes," 
wjth a seotinelat the gate; and the peo- 
ple not only made it tbe pl^ee of deporit 
ibr their militai? stores, but used to carry 
tbeir plate and otiter valnablee thitber 



188 



Meetinff'JBtousei. 



[APBlt^ 



lughUj for safe keeping. The meeting- 
honte in DoTer, N. H. was sarroanded, in 
1667, by a *« fortification " of logs 100 feet 
•qnare. The first meeting-house in Mid- 
dletown, Ct, was a log hnt 20 feet square, 
10 feet from sill to plate, and enclosed by 
heavy log pickets desgned to be Pequot- 
proo£ The first, in Hingham, Ms., had 
a palisade, fi>r defence against the In- 
dians. The first, of Concord, N. EL, 
(1780) was of logs, 40 feet by 25 feet, 
where worship was held for 20 years, 
daring which time also it served the pur- 
pose of a fort ; the people carrying their 
gnns to meeting, and stacking them in the 
entry under chaige of a sentinel, while 
the best gun in the parish, in the hands ot 
the pastor. Rev. Timothy Walker, went 
into the pulpit, and leaned there during 
time of service. The first meeting-house 
of Shelbume, Bis. — ^thongh the town was 
not settled nntil near the date of the 
Revolution — vras built of logs, plastered 
between the joints. The church in San- 
disfield, Ms., was organized and Rev. 
Cornelius Jones, its first pastor, was or- 
dained, in a 6am. 

These meeting-houses of the first epoch 
of New England were, then, mere rude 
enclosures, affording shelter from the ele- 
ments, and the opportunity to hear the 
Word in safety, without regard to much 
comeliness of aspect; oflen, if not always, 
used without formal ** dedication," and 
without thought of any special sacredness 
as attached to them. They appear to have 
been furnished with rough benches on 
each side of a central passage; the male 
portion of the audience occupying the 
one side, and the female, the other. The 
pulpit was but an iurailed stand or desk, 
in keeping with the other meagre appoint- 
ments of the placed — in one instance, 
(Meriden, N. H.,) described as ** a rude 
enclosure resembling a pen." 

As the country became more ^ttled, 
and there were more people to hear the 
Word, and share in the expense of pub- 
lic worship ; as the general style of pri- 
vate living advanced with the increasing 



opulence of the commnnity; and as the 
disappearance of the savages favored 
safer, and therefore more numerous Sab- 
bath assemblages, these first stmctures 
were outgrown and disused, and laiger 
and more pretentions buildings were 
erected in Uieir place. Where, by any 
peculiar good fortune, the town was in 
possession of a bell for Church purposes, 
the house erected had reference to that 
The old meeting-house of 1668, at New 
Haven, was quadrangular, with a pyra- 
midal roof-— the apex surmounted by a 
belfry, whose bell-rope came down in the 
middle of the broad aisle. Dr. Bacon 
thinks its gallery stairs were on the out- 
side of the building. The second Plymouth 
meeting-house had a bell-turret The 
ancient houses in Andover and Chebacco, 
Ms., had the same adornment That 
built in Newbury, Ms., in 1700, had four 
gables and a turret, and within, the roof 
was open to the ridge. That erected in 
West Springfield, Ms., in 1702, and which 
was 42 feet square on the ground, had a 
roof running up from each side towards a 
central point, which was crowned by a 
two-story turret, rising to a height of 92 
feet from the ground-— with gables of unique 
pattern — and this, although, until 1748, 
they had no bell, but assembled for worship 
at the sound of a drum.^ The Second, in 

1 A TOto WM pused in Ilaverhlll, Ms., io 16&0, 
** thnt Abraham Tyler blow bis horn half an hour 
before meeting on the Lord^s Day, and on leotnre 
daya, and hare one pound of pork per annum, from 
each fkmily, for the Bame/' In Westfield, Bfa., • 
man was paid 25 ■bilUngs a year to beat a drum to 
call the people to meeting. In South Iladley, they 
assembled *' at the blowing of a eoocb." About 
1816, the first bell in SuUlTan Co., N. H., waa pro- 
cured, and so great waa the intereet felt io regard to 
it, that it went by the name of the ** Meriden Idol!** 
In 1638, it was voted in Sulem, Ms., that Nathaniel 
Porrer *' shall haue for the swerpinge of ye meeting- 
house and ye ringinge of ye bell fiftie shillings per 
annum " In Thornton, N. H., it was voted, in 1798, 
that '* the meeting-hou^e be sweeped six times a 3 ear 
by a saxnn, rhosen by vendue." Robert Bassrtt was 
desired (May 17, 1647,) by the General Court of New 
Hareo, " to beat both the first and second drums on 
Lord's dajs and Lecture days, upon lAc meeting' 
koMse, that so those who live far off may bear them 
the mors di*tineUy." 



1869:] 



Matrnff-Sifittei, 



m 



Middleboroagh, M*., had two " ridge-polei 
aad ibnr gable eods." Tbe aocieot meet- 
ing house, itill standing in Hingham, Ms. — 
the oldest dow in New England — built in 
IGSO, and which was 56 feet bj4Sfeet, 
with 20 feet posts, has a " pjrramidal " 
roof, running up toward the center from 
each aide ; crowned with a belfry. The 
following Tiewof the third ediSce, erected 
bf tbe Pirst Church of Boston, and occu- 
piedbythemfroml713,until 1808, (which 
stood where " Joy's Building " now stands, 
in Washington Street,) will give some 
idea of this style of structure— tbough of 
coarse this edifice woa larger and more 
elaborate than those of the same class, 
built and occupied in towns of less pecu- 
niary ability. 




The reaction of feeling against tho 
English Chorch and all its belongings, 
appears to have been still too great to 
permit our fathers, generally, even to 
attempt to approximate toward the extei^ 
nal style of Cburch edifice which had 
been left behind in England; and they 
accordingly fell back upon the first prin- 
ciples of arcbitecture, and seem to hare 
sought merely to secure a building spa- 
cious enougb to contain the people who 
desired lo worship together; that should 
be plain enough within and without to 
guard against ecclesiastical pride; 'and 
that sbould externally suggest, in no 
point, the shrines of that Cburch which 
had driven them forth into this wilder- 



Den. Hence aron diat i^le of ediBco 
which — with onessential modifieatiotu — 
was regnant throughout New England for 
more than a centary, and which, froiA it! 
external resemblance to the most obTious 
and nsefiil adjunct to our farm-botuea, 
UMd to be called — rather inevitably than 
irreverently — the " barn meeting- house." 
It was originally a perfectly plun and 
semi-cubical erection, without porch, 
tower, steeple, or chimney, and differed, 
in oulade aspect, from an overgrown 
bam, almost wholly in the fact tiiot it 
had a door on three of its sides, with tiro 
(somedmes three) rows of small windowi 
piercing its walls, ibterrupted lb their 
continuity on that side where the pulfnt 
was placed, by a larger window, on I 
level with ila exigencies of light and ren- 
tilation. From 40 to 60 windows was tbe 
allowance for such a boilding. Its sic* 
*aried with the size and aUlity of the 
town, and number of people to be accom- 
modated ; ranging from 86 feet by 80 feet, 
to 72 feet by 6S feet; tbe average lengdi 
and width of near forty, built between 
1653 and 1812, whose dimensions He be- 
fore us, being a trifle over 50 feet by 40 
feet The height of the peats varied frmn 
16 feet to 27 feet,— the average of those 
on our minutes being not flir from SO 
feet The main front door was placed in 
the middle of one of the long sides; the 
pulpit being in the center of the ctiier, 
directly opposite. The side door* were 
placed in the center of each of tbe 
ends of the building. Galleries were 
built along the tide over the front door 
opposite the pulpit, and across the two 
ends over the side doors. Tbe pal[Ht 
was lofty, and was reached by a flight of 
stain on its HgbL That part where the 
speaker was to stand, projected semi- 
circularly from the general front, and 
over bead — on its slender iron rod — im- 
pended the " sounding-board," which 
looked not unlike a huge eztingnisher, 
made ready on some signal to descend 
and ibrever put out the light of eloquence 
and piety that wm expected to shine 



m 



J^eei^rJ^ow^. 






by ftaisii ninniog np in t^ro or thr^e of 
tbe ogrnen of the buildlog ; which stain 
wert often naad as seats £ar the children, 
thopgh these sometimes (Popkins' New- 
baiy SenkiOD,) ^ on " a seat in the alley 
fixed to the onlfnde of the pews." 

The process of bnilding was gradual. 
Not onfrequentlj years passed fifVsr the 
frame was raised, before the structure was 
complete. At South Hadley, Ms., the 
Irame was put up in 1 722, and though the 
houje w,as ^not large, containing only 
^me pews in the body of it," being built 
by the personal labor of the town, it was 
not fini^ed until the close of 1 737. 

In Bedford, K. H., the frame was raised 
in 1755, and in 17^7, a committee was 
appcHuted by the town to board and shin- 
l^e it, and another to provide glass and 
sashes. In 1 760 ** long seats " were tem- 
porarily constructed, so that the edifice 
4sottld be used. In 1764, it was voted to 
build a pulpit — which was put up in 1766. 
In 1766, oil with which to paint the exte- 
lior, and glass for the windows, were 
provided, but the town not being ready 
lo use them, they were " lent out ** to such 
inhabitants as could give security for 
their safe keeping and return ; one man 
having **six squares," another **four," 
another " twenty-four," another ** twelve," 
another ^ fifteen," another "• a quart of 
oil,"&c. &c. In 1784, it was voted <«to 
lot out and sell " ground for pews ; and 
in 1.785, (thirty years after the frame 
was raised) the meeting-house was **• fin- 
ished according to vote." This fairly — 
though over-tutUly — illustrates the gen- 
eral process of meeting-house erection in 
those days. As soon as the firame was 
covered in, and the floor boarded, and 
possibly the lower tier of windows glazed, 
(the others being temporarily boarded 
over) rough benches were put up, and 
the house began to be used. It was then 
gradually finished, as the ability of the 
people permitted. Squares on the floor 
about 6 feet by 6 feet, were originally 
^ieeded by the town to individuals, as 



they becmif 9 ^^jl^le to purchase them, op 
which those individuals erected pews to 
suit themselves (in Pedham they were 
called ** pitts," and were 5 feet by 4^ 
feet) — each being obliged to build hb 
own pew, keep it in repair, and ** main- 
tain all the gl^iss agidnst it" Subse- 
quently, it became usual to require the 
pews to be ** built with winscot worke, 
and ^ of a kind." The first meeting- 
bouse in Hampton, N. H. (1712, or there- 
abouts) at first had but one. pew, and that 
for the minister's fiunily ; the rest of the 
people sitting on long benches in an order 
fixed by a yearly committee, who *' digni-' 
fied" the house, by assigning what was 
considered the best seat to the man who 
paid the highest tax in town ; and so on. 
In Stratham, N. H., it was voted, when 
the coDunittee had thus ** dignified" the 
congregation, that •" every person that is 
Seated shall Set in those Seats or pay 
Ave shillings Fir day for every day they 
set out of those seates in a disorderly 
manner to advaince themselves higher in 
the meeting-house." 

In Dedham, Ms., the greatest tax-payer 
had the highest seat Sometimes this 
was modified,^ as in Bedford, Ms., where, 
in 1731, and many subsequent years, a 
committee was appointed to *'seat the 
meeting-house," and ** have respect unto 
them that are 50 years old, and upwards ;" 

1 In HolUitoo, Mfl., the town ohoae a oommittM in 
1749, '* to dignifjr" tht seata of thair maeUng-boiiaa, 
than Joat oomplatad. Tha oommittoa repoitad (bat 
tha " fbra saat balow >' ahoald ba marked flrat ; tba 
aaoond, aeoond ; tha third balow and tha tnm teat 
in tha gallaiy, aqual and tha third in dignity ; and ao 
on to layen dagreaa of dignity. They alao propoaad 
that tha proparty InToloa of 1748 ba tha rola for Mat> 
ingtha houM, "haying a proper regard to agr.*> 
Tha town aoceptad their report, bat *^ Geo. lairbank, 
John Lealand, John Twitehali and Stephen and 
Jona. Foattr proieatad againat it on theae groonda— 
(1) that the meeting was not legal, (2) that it was not 
opened legally, and (8) that the role of aeating adopt- 
ed, was neither legal nor reasonable." 

In Starbridge, Ms., in 1741, the town ** lotted out 
tha room" on which pews should be built, on thia 
prineiple ; tha oommittee being instnietad to " have 
due regard to aga, to (hair first beginning in them, to 
Ihair bearing ohargii in town, and to thatroMfol- 



1859.] 



MaErt, ua flindaliit% liicn eMnwhnt 



odien tabs «stod 

paj." Tb« fblloiriiig ^lannd pim — 

drawn from tnemcny of one of thete tsj & 

boiues, erected tfter H became tiie eiutan ward 

to add poTcltei (eoatvoing tbe gollerj m finithed wltli peWi. 



Tei7 eonwt idea ef tk genetal i** 



^ I I 



a 



EC 



.PORCH. 



^ORCH. J 



A broad aUe na from the troat door fkmilj broagbt its ■* fba^■tOT«,~ wifh ill 

oppoeite tbe pulpit, op to tiie " deacons' little incloced pan of coab, or a bat brid, 

■eat," crow e d hj one through the center enveloped in flannel, to alienate tbe 

of the length of the bouM, connecttng the rigon of the place during the winter 

doon frocD the two porcbes. The firat monthi. The fint Chnrcb Rtore wbich 

pew on tbe west, adjoining tbe pulpit we ba*e Meo mentioned in Ma««ehB- 

•taira, waa the 't-bitiiiler'a pew." Tbe eetta, wa( in tbe Fiiet Chorch, in Boetcn, 

pen had high lidei, and a row of on- in 1773. The North Chnreh to SaltH 

cnahioned wati rarronnding tbeir interkir, had one in IB09. 



except where entrance wai gained by the 
door; and ihere were generally a couple 
orhi^h-bBi'kerfiflag-bottomedchain, stand- 
ing in the ['enter of each pew, for 
more aged ftm&Ies of the fiunilj. 
board «eata were hang on hinges, • 
turn up against the side of 
the pew, (for ironvenience <^ 
fltanding in prater- time,) and 
the resonance of their care- 
less return (o Iheir boriEonlal 
postare, after the Amen, was 
sometimes suggestive of a vol- 
ley of small arms. The pews 
Were made of panel-work, 
auRnbunled by a light bal- 
ustrade of miniature, orna- 
mented rolumtaS. No fur- 
nace, or other wanning ap- 
paHtns, wu Hied, bnt eacb 



The galleries were mpported on nz 
pillars, as shown by the marks o a in the 
pew* on tbe abore plan. Ileir general 
artMifeoMnt wiH be made obriooe by the 

The fiiHowiBf design. 

" ^ Pun or OALLaniai. 




192 



Medmff'Hoiua. 



[Apbil, 



Thsf were entered by doon from the 
•tun in the porches. A row of pews ran 
roDod Agunit the wall, on the same high- 
eet leveL There were two comer pewa, 
one on edch nde of die aegera' leab, on 
the ume level, ind then the rapid d^ent 
to the front pemiitted only of lung seata, 
which were appropiuted to the dngera 
on the tide opposite the palpit, and often 
to the miscellaneous mnJtitude, on either 
side. The hoase, up ilairs and below, was 
ceiled up to the bottom of the windows. 
The fronts of the galleries were panelled; 
the beams on which thej' rested, and the 
great beams of the house, projected from 
the plastering, and were planed, and — 
after the dajs of paint — painted. The 
pulpit and SDunding-board were elaborate- 
Ijr ornamented with panel work and mould- 
ings. 

The following cat will convey, very 
fwthfoUy, the impresnon of the external 
aspect of the house we have described, — 
with its two porches ; its huge panelled 
front door ; the box for posting notices of 
town-meeting, and the like, between that 
door and thefirst window oo the west; and 
the " horse-block " in front, from which 
our fathers used to monnt their saddles, 
and our mooters their appended pillions. 



form. The eaves and comers, die doors and 
porches of the old model were enriched ; 
and soon a lower bearing a bell turret, took 
theplaceof oneof the end porches. The 
fbllowing'design accurately represents this 
stage of architectural progress, and is a 
fine specimen of the style that took the 
place of the "bam meeting-house" through- 
out New England. It is an eastern view 
of the house of worship which was 
erected, in 1794-5, in what is now West 
BrookSeld, Ms., and which, until 1838, was 
occupied, in this form, by the First Con- 
gregational Church of all the BrookGolds, 
and the oldest Church organiiation in 
the Brookfeld Association. 





As the general culture improved, it 
began to be telt that God might be quite 
as acceptably worshipped in booses that 
donid have a comelier external aspect, 
and that should even enggeit some of the 
old associations which had been left be- 
hind in the fathei^land. More attention 
waa therefm bestowed upon the oatward 



Slight variations were made upon tlus, 
as a more elaborate and loftier steeple 
was denred. Sometimes one or two addi- 
tional stories, decreasing in size, were in- 
terposed between the square tower and 
the bell turret — the latter still retuning 
its pepper-box tiirminus ; exemplified in 
a bue example still remaining, in the 
house of the First Church in Koxbury, 
Ms. Sometimes the desired altitude waa 
guned by adding a clear story above the 
ridgepole, to the tower, and then pro- 
longing the belfry and elongating its 
pepper-box into a slender spire. A good 
example of this style was afiordcd by the 
meeting-house that stood in what is now 
Federal Street, in Boston, trom 1144 to 
1809— the predecesMT of that where 



1869.] 



MttimffSmeet. 



las 



Chaoning pruclied, which a just now ipire mnch like the Old SontL Hm 

crushed under the heel of commerce — a New North Church in Boston, (erected 

view of which is given below. It hu in 1803) has such a toner, elcmgftted in 

historic interest, as the house in which breadth, but enriched and termiuating in 

the Masaschusetta Coeveution of Dele- a belfrj of no great height 'The Weat 

gates diBCiuaed and accepted the Federal Church in Bostoa (erected in 1806) has tk 

CoDititulioD ; from which circomataDce similar tower (as shown below) but elMi- 

old " Long ^ai\e " has nnce been called gated bj an additional etorf, and tenai- 

" Federal Street" ting in a modest bell turret 





The Old South meeting-house in Boa- 
ton, built in 1 730, is of this general style, 
though its spire aboxe the belfry is larger, 
loftier, and mora enriched. Sometimes 
the tower, after rising a clear atoTy above 
Ae ridge, was elongated bj the two addi- 
tional stories, and the spire placed upon 
the whole, with a small turret at each 
comer of each break. Christ's Church, 
Boston, (erected 1723) has this form— 
the body of the house being TO feet by 90 
feet, by 35 feet in height; the tower 24 
feet square, and 78 feet high; the two 
extra stories and spire adding 97 feet — 
making the whole height of the steeple 
1 75 feet Sometimes the tower was flat- 
tened against the end of the house, so as 
to contain three windows in a row, and 
occupy more than one half of that end ; 
furoishing larger lobbj space, and — it was 
perhaps thought — adding dignity to the 
structure. The old Second church of 
Boston, which stood io Hanover street 
from 1721 to 1844, hod such a tower, 
which, after rising a little above the 
ridge, reduced itself to a squaie form, 
a belfij with a sapeijac«nt 
VOL. I. 26 



The only marked deviatioa frran tlia 
general style of external stmctare here 
noticed which oecors to ns as marking the 
century cloung with 1820, or thereabonta, 
is the two-Bteepled variety, a Sue example 
of which is given below, in the view 
of the house that stood in Hollis atreet, 
Boston, from 1 788 to 1610; when it wai 
taken down and removed to Wejmoatb. 




We have never heard it remarked con- 
cerning this last style, — indeed we never 
heard any remaA made about it, and do 
not know who introdaced it in this eotut- 
try, — but it bas struck ns that the archi- 
tect who planned this form of front most 
have had io his mind, as a model, the 
western front ot St Fsnl'* CatbediaL 
Th«re ii^ indeed, in that, a doobla por- 



i-^4 MeeHng-Houses. [Apbil, 

tS6o^ and its two towers are mncli more or three — like that occupied by the Bene- 
^boratiely ornamented than has been ficent Church in Providence, R. I., — were 
attempted here ; but it is well known that built with domes ; — distant resemblances, 
8Hr Christopher Wren would have re- in little, of St. Peter's and St. PauVs. This 
dnced his double portico to a single lofVy — though done, most economically, in 
obe, if the Portland quarries would then brick and wood — however involved an 
baVe afforded him stones of sufficient expenditure impossible to most parishes, 
ttiagnitude; and with all the immense Those, therefore, who had* b^ome dissat- 
difierence in size, material, elaboration isfied with the old styles, and could not 
and grandeur of relative position, there is afford even to attempt to reproduce houses 
yet something about this simple design that cost from fif^y to near two hundred 
given above which reminds us of what thousand dollars above the land on which 
always seemed to us one of the most they stand, ^ were fain to content them- 
pleasing features of the CathedraL selves with something quite as unlike the 
This two-steepled style had a few ex- former fashion as they, without much con- 
amples in New England. We well re- sideration of the question whether any 
member a venerable church of this fashion thing but change were to be gtuned by 
which stood, until nnce 1840, in Kingston, the change. Two-penny architects — who 
Ms., and which made a deep impression had spoiled stupid joiners to make them- 
upon our boyish mind, inasmuch as the selves still more stupid quacks at the 
■tern of the ball crowning the apex of the draught-board — ^fanned the growing re- 
•oilth tower was in some way broken, and action from the past, and the land was 
hung fbr years in its dislocated position, plagued with an erupdon of the most 
New Haven, Ct, contains one or two hideous architectural monstrosities. We 
diore modem erections afler this manner, had Grecian temples with no towers, and 
and Providence, R. I., has several recent then the old tower was hoisted from the 
edifices with double towers. ground and set a-straddlc upon the ridge- 
About the beginning of the present pole of the temple ; while all manner of 
century there arose a disposition here to urns and obelisks, and domes and spin- 
import the more modem forms of church dies — each more hideous than another — 
architecture that prevailed abroad. — topped the pile. This had its day, when 
Travellers brought back glowing ac- a great Grothic invasion came over us, 
counts of the excellent beauty of St. and for the last few years parishes have 
Martins-in-the-fields ; St Mary-le-Bow ; been hard at work in building '* Byzan- 
St Brides, Fleet St., and other churches tine " and " Romanesque " and " Nor- 
of the Englbh metropolis. The Puritan man " and " Lancet " and " Perpendic- 
prejudice against costly and church-ly ular " and ** Tudor "' churches of brick 
houses of worship had passed away, and and stucco, and clapboard and shingle 
their descendants were quite willing to and plaster — about as much like the Ca- 
expend, of their increased substance, in- thedrals which they feebly misrepresent, 
creased sums in the erection of meeting- as a pyramid of lemon ice-cream is like 
houses that might emulate even the more Bunker Hill Monument. But these are too 
favorite structures of Europe in size and patent to our readers to need description. 
beauty. And there soon arose, in some No special change in the interior 
of the chief cities of New England, houses arrangements of our meeting houses was 
modelled after the master-pieces of Wren made until within the last quarter cen- 

and Gibbs and Shaw — like that of the i St. MarUns-in-the-Fields (1721-6) cost £86,891; 

Park Street Church in Boston, the First ^^' BHdw (1680-1708), though only 99 feet by 68 fcet, 

B«irtl«Ciircl.inP«>vide„ce.the Center r;.:'!;:^r^.SSir8rM^TB;L'; n.: 

Chtirch m New Haven, and others. Two Bokd, £eo,0oo. 



1859.] 



tui7» when Uie old square pews were 
torn out ; the pulpit was placed at the 
end of the house opposite the tower, and 
narrow pews (or " slips **) were arranged 
so as to cover the floor, — with convenient 
able accommodations. This enabled the 
same floor room to seat a greatly increased 
number, and to seat them all more com- 
fortably. The pulpit was lowered. So 
were the galleries — where (hey were not 
wholly dispensed with, except over the 
entrance, for the choir. About 1840, this 
internal arrangement was still further im- 
proved by arranging these pews — especial- 
ly in large houses — on the sweep of reced- 
ing circles, drawn from the speaker's desk, 
as a center, thus enabling all the audience 
to face him, while sitting squarely in their 
seats. These — with the addition of suit- 
able rooms in a basement, or adjacent 
chapel, for those Sabbath School, and 
social evening services, which the piety of 
the present day rejoices in — are the prin- 
cipal changes in the interior arrangements 
of the sanctuary, which need to be enu- 
merated in bringing our rapid sketch 
down to the present time. 

Having thus considered our theme his- 
torically, it remains to treat it suggestively, 
which — with our readers' kind permis- 
sion — we shall proceed frankly to do; 
albeit we are neither an architect nor the 
son of an architect, and have no particu- 
lar right, that we know of, to know, or 
say anything about it, except our great 
Yankee Magna Charta — the right to think 
and to utter common sense on all subjects. 

What ought to be the central and con- 
trolling principle in the erection of a 
meeting-house ? What is the Christian 
idea of such a structure ? Is such a house 
merely a meeting-place, where worship- 
pers can conveniently listen, and unite in 
all appropriate acts of worship ? Or is it 
essential that such a meeting-place should 
be enriched and digniBed by the applica- 
tion of certain architectural features, 
having, either inherently or historically, 
special adaptation to the end proposed to 
be reached by it? Is preaching and 




m 



hearing the main business for ▼hich such 
a house should be planned : or are theae 
subordinate to other acts of wordup) 
requiring rather the presence of immenan 
assemblages, uniting in something like ^ 
cathedral service ? It is pUun that until 
these questions are answered, we are not 
prepared to sit down to plan a house for 
the worship of God. They ought to be 
clearly answered. The exact idea that 
should rule every feature and subordinate 
every detsdl, must be fixed from the optr 
set, or confusion and irrelevancy will de- 
form, if not destroy, the fitness of the 
structure to its end. False reasoning 
upon false premises, has marred many ^ 
our most costly and elaborate erections. 

There seems to be a strong dispositicm 
in the public mind to settle these qu^- 
tions by an appeal to the ancient times ; 
a conviction that somewhere along tjbus 
line of Ecclesiastical architecture, in old 
Romanesque, or Lombard, or Byzantine, 
or Norman, or the many-styled Gothic^ 
is to be found the genuine idea of a 
building having all possible internal 
adaptation, and external fitness, to stand 
as a model for houses in which to worpl^ip 
God. And so far as our religious senti- 
ments are enriched from Uie soil of the 
past, there is an unquestioned semblance 
of justice in this idea. Dr. Johnson said 
that ** the man is littie to be envied whose 
patriotbm would not gain force on the 
plains of Marathon, or whose piety would 
not grow warmer ameng the ruins of 
lona ;" and we may pity him who can 
pace cathedral pavements that have been 
worn by the tread of centuries, and not 
feel at least a momentary sympathy with 
Milton's wish : — 



** let my due feet neTvr fkU 
To walk (he studious clojrtten pal«, 
And lo?e th« high embowed roof, 
With antique pilUra many proof, 
And i>toried windows richly dight. 
Casting a dim religious light : 
There let the pealing organ blow, 
To the full voiced quixe below. 
In senrioe high, and anthems clear. 
As may with sweetness, through mine 
IMssolTe me into ecetasiee, 
And bring all heaven hefora mint eyea.** 



196 



Meetinff'jHouses. 



[Afbii^ 



And yet he who tries to jdn in a Prot- 
eitant service of preaching and hearing 
in a cathedral, will at once become con- 
scious of an incongruity between that ser- 
vice and the situation ; and as the voice 
of a preacher half hidden behind cluster- 
ing pillars, is lost adown the *^ long drawn 
aisle,** and confused among the reverbera- 
tions that are thrown back from the 
** fretted vault;*' he is thrust upon the 
punful conviction that, somehow, the 
right man is not now in the right place, 
nor the right thing being rightly done. 

The simple truth is that the cathedral 
charches — and all others of the old world, 
or the new, which have been copied, in 
little, from them, or suggested by them — 
are but imperfectly adapted to Protestant 
worship; were not intended for it; and 
are not the outgrowth of the unadulter- 
ated Christianity of the primitive ages, 
bat rather of the corrupted forms of a 
later period — when the idea of public 
worship had passed from that of commun- 
ion wiUi Grod and each other, of medita- 
tion upon the expounded word, and of 
choral pruse from every lip. We have 
never seen the suggestion — and yet we 
believe it to be susceptible of the most 
rigorous historic proof— that our Pilgrim 
Fathers re-introduced the primitive idea 
of houses for the worship of God, as well 
as the primitive idea of the Church wor- 
shipping Grod in them. The one was, in' 
&ct, the consequence of the other ; given 
the same data, the same results must ne- 
cessarily be vrrought out The primitive 
Church was a poor and defenceless band, 
driven to find, or make, shelter for 
its worship in the simplest and most 
modest quarters. The Pilgrim Church 
was a similar band, and had a similar 
history. During the first three centuries 
of the Christian era — while the Church 
remained in its Congregational form, and 
there were no bishops, but the bishops 
that were pastors, and bishops because 
they were pastors (each of his own 
church, and of no other) ; and no bishop- 
rics that were not synonymous with 



single congregations of believers, and 
there was therefore no call for huge edi- 
fices, or any specialities of construction — 
the primitive saints worshipped where 
they could find unmolested and comforta- 
ble shelter. At first ^ this Was in private 
houses ; in a *' a large upper room fur- 
nished and prepared ;'* (Mark, xiv: 15,) 
in the open .fields, in caves and cate- 
combs. Ailerward,* in the last of the 
second century and beginning of the 
third, they began to build ^^rude and 
simple structures varying in form and 
size, according to circumstances." (Cole- 
man, Christ Antiq. p. 182.) As they be- 
came more numerous, and in the time of 
Constantino gained not merely toleration 
but sustenance from the government, they 
appear not unfrequently to have taken 
possession of the old basilicas. These were 
huge edifices which the Romans were ac- 
customed to erect in their large towns for 
use as a court of law, and as an exchange, 
or place of meeting for mercantile trafiic, 
— these uses being so conjoined that it 
would be hard to say which ruled the 
other. They were rectangular, hav- 
ing a width of from one third, to one 
half, their length. Their floor area was 
divided into three parts, consisting of a 
central nave, and two side aisles'— each 
divided from the center by a single row 
of columns. At one end of this central 
nave, on a raised platform, was the tri- 
bune of the judge; either rectangular or 
circular. In the center of this was placed 
the curule chair of the prator, and 
around, seats for the judices. The people 
stood below. Galleries, reaching around 
three sides, supported by the pillars that 

1 Eoaeb. h. e. lib. tU. c. 22. Pliny, Ep. lib. ziz. 

Ep.»7. 

s Faber, de templor. ap. Christian, antiq. dab. in 
Pott'a Syllog. Com. Tbeol. toI. iii, p. 834. Moebeim, 
de Eccl. uite Const. M. p. 463. 

s The word aide will here, as in many other places 
in this essay, be understood to refer, not, as com- 
monly used among us, to the passageways between 
pews, bat to those side portions of a chareh or other 
bailding which are separated from the nave, or cen- 
tral portion, by ranges of colomns sapporting Um 
roof. 



1859.] Meetinff-Bimes. l^Y 

diTided the nave from the aisles, gave architecture of the world, down to the 
room for listeners and loiterers, women as Beformation. And, since that day, it 
well as men. seems to have been so far assumed that 
When the Church, in the time of Con- this is — ^by virtue of its historic cimnection 
stantine, was led by her large increase of with the Church, if not of its inherent 
numbers to seek, and be grateful for, the proprieties — the idea that ought to govern' 
use of these deserted basilicas, the pro- the architecture of the Christian world, 
gress of ambition and corruption within that not merely Protestant cathedrals, but 
herself had already developed the germs even little parish churches ought, of right, 
of the Papal system. Instead of the sim- to retain as many of its features as can be 
pie officers of apostolic days, she had a made consistent with their use as houses 
hierarchy full-fledged,^ with its Arch- for a worship that lately consists in 
bishops, Bishops, Priests and Deacons, — preaching and hearing, 
its sub-deacons, lectores, acolyths, exor- But it is only necessary to enter such a 
cist«, precentors, janitors and catechists. cathedral as that which stands — in its 
Instead of being all ^ brethren," (vide, unfinished grandeur, so strangely blend- 
New Test passim^) there were now three ing mossgcown and rain-worn pinnacles 
distinct orders in the body; the clergy, and buttresses, with firesh cut stones — at 
multifarious in their sub-divisions ; the Cologne, to see the . utter incongruitj 
faithful ; said ihe catechumens. Naturally between such an edifice and any service 
therefore, when she took possesnon of that could be naturally associated with 
these buildings for the purposes of wor- Protestant worship. No human voice could 
ship, she availed herself of their remarka- fill its immense finbhed area f its five usles, 
ble adaptation to her use in the condition with the two added in each transept, with 
to which her spiritual deterioration had the more than seventy huge pillars, sup- 
brought her. The bbhop ascended the porti ng its bays; would prevent the poesibil- 
pnetor*8 vacant throne. The clergy clus- ity of any other unity of worship among the 
tered around him on the seats whence the gathered multitude, that that which should 
judices had forever fled. The ** faithful " be involved in a union, on their part, in 
assumed the standing places of the mer- genuflexions and prostrations, at the 
chants; and the ** penitents" and ^ cate- sound of the organ and the chant And 
chumens ," the remoter position whence if we look at the cathedrals of England, 
spectators had been wont to look from we shall find that, though mostly less in 
afar upon the clamor of the exchange, area, they are no better adapted to the 
The altar in front of the apse where liba- uses of Sabbath worship in the forms 
tions used to be poured to the gods, be- usual with us, than are those on the con- 
fore, and aflerthe conclurion of important tinent, which remain still in Papal hands, 
business, was adopted as the central figure The average area of fourteen of the cathe- 

of the new Christian rites ; and so, almost t it. extnme length ii 446 feet ; ext^ou bnadth, 

without change, the pagan receipt of CUS- 260 feet ; Its «aperflebl area, 81,404 feet— Dearly 

tom and court of justice became the ^^^^ ^"•" **»• »~ <>' ^^ ^^*^ Cbarch. The 

. . ^ ^1 1 • i> .,^ eomple(Ml deaign of the beautiftil twtn tplfee of ita 

shnne for the worship of the paganizmg ^^ ^^^^ ^„,^ ^^ ^^^ ^ ^,0 ^ ^^ 

Church. And when Constantine poured it it osoal to eay that if thia were finiahed, It nonld 

out his money for the building of new be the StPeter'a of Qothle architecture. 8t Peter*t, 

and magnificent temples, this basilican T"^7"'''^'^'^^!^l'^''^^^'^T 

^ . I • • la aa long as the entire length of the Oolofoe Cathe- 

idea ruled in their erection; and that dral/(446 feet) ; and the top of the eroes on Ite dome 

idea, with such additions and modifica- i* 480 fleet from the paTement. The Milan Cathedral 

tions as the fuU Papal worship demanded, *«^" * '»»?, li^'^® 1"" !^'^ ^J^ 

... ., / « 1 • • 1 at Florence, 84, 808 eqnarefaet. The Rheima Gathe- 

essentially presided over the ecclesiastical dnacoTcra 66,746 equare feet; that at Amlaoi, 71,208; 

1 BehaS. Hiit. Ohr. Ohh. pp. 407-414. Nofest Dama, at Paria, 64^06. 



W^^m: 



[Apbii^ 



dpj cbnrcliM qf Eoglwad (Toric, Lincoln, 
Winctj^a^r,' Weitminiter, Ely, Canter- 
bnrj, S&lubory, Durbam, Feterboroagh, 
Wells, Norwich, Worcester, Exeter, and 
LitcbSeld) is about 52,G00 feet each— 
MulTalent to a parallelogram of 262 feet, 
i iDctkea in lenj^ hy SOO feet in width ; 
whjch ia equivalent to a aze aeven 
or eight timet greater than that of onr 
TtTj largest cl^ charches. SL Pauls is 
SOO feet in length, and its width Tories 
from a minimmn of 126 feet, to ISO feet 
at the western frcmt, and 250 feet in the 
transepL 

As s neceseaiy cOnseqnence of the im- 
menseness of these charches, and their 
■hbdivisioD into nsTe, and usles, and 
transept, and choir or chancel, with the 
chapels, or chantries, that cluster uound 
llieir outer walls ; making aaj attempt at 
^rect centralization of the whole area 
anmnd any one focus of speaking and 
hearing, impoanble ; it has followed that 
only a small portion of the whole ballding 
if deToted to the pnrpoee of public wor- 
ship. In St Paul's, this portion is the 
choir ; and the result is that, so far as 
the proper uses of a meeting-house are 
concerned, this immen»e pile, costing 
£760,000, oflers no greater accommoda' 
tion than would be equalled b; a chapel 
76 feet by 50 feet, in length and width. 
The cathedral at Canterbury is aimilarly 
available for a space of about 90 feet by 
40 feet. York Minster aSbrds a apace of 
some 70 feet by 40 feet. The nave of 
the cathedral at Manchester is pewed 
over a rambling area, averaging perhaps 
llOfcetby SO feet; but the space is so 
interrupted by the nineteen pillars that, in 
four rows, support the superjacent mass, 
that comparatively few of the high and 
awkward sittings are comfortable for use. 

The parish churches of England are 
BO far modelled after the cathedrals, as to 
preTent most of them from being suitable 
and convenient places for the assemblage 
of large audiences to bear the Word, and 
unite in the worship of the sanctuary. St 
Botolph'i, in Boston, in I^cobuhire, is 



said to be the largest in the kingdom with- 
out transepts, being 282 feet in length by 
perhaps 125 feet in width, having a tower 
282 feet in height, modelled after that of 
the cathedral at Antwerp. We give a 
wood-cut of the front of thb church, 
drawn from a finely engraved view in 
Mr. Kahey Thompson's " History and 
Antiquities of Boston," 1856. It is espec- 
ially interesting as hinting te our minds 
the outward circumstances of the worship 
of some of our fathers, before they left 
the English Church. As this edifice was 
begun to j>e built in 1309, it had already 
been standing more than 300 years when 
this country was settled. In it John Cot- 
ton preached before he came to be 
" teacher " of the First Church of this 
Boelon, in the wilderness. It has no gal- 
leries, yet it is estimated that it will con- 
tain 5,000 people. 




This unsuitable n ess to the proper uses 
of Protestant worship is by no means, 
however, confined to parish churches of 
the large class of St. Botolph's. It may 
be seen almost as clearly in many of 
much hnmbler dimennions. Take St. 
Sepulchre's, near Newgale, in London — 
whose bell has tolled the exit of bo many 



1859.] 






m 



criminals — as an example. It is a paral- 
lelogram, some 120 feet hy 68 feet. The 
interior has a narroy? nave, divided by 
two ranges of Tuscan columns — the bases 
of which stand on octagon plinths (level 
with the tops of the pews, and subtracting 
near one quarter from each, on which 
they abut) — from two side aisles of un- 
equal width ; that on the south being the 
narrower. Over each of tbiese side aisles 
a clumsy gallery is wedged between the 
pillars on the one side, and the wall on 
the other. A plain chapel of these dimen- 
sions (120 by 68) would be easy*to speak 
in, and hear in, and see in ; but here, 
what with the huge columns, and the 
heavy galleries, lowering like extinguish- 
ers, on either hand, over the side pews, 
and the general high-shouldered propor- 
tions of the structure, it b with great 
difficulty that the service can be made 
available to the listeners; and this, 
although a most remarkable sounding- 
board — in the shape of a large parabolic 
reflector, twelve feet in diameter — extends 
itself, fan-like, behind and over the Rec- 
tor, to assist his own (by no means insig- 
ni6cant) powers of vocal propulsion. We 
presume that any of our readers who 
have ever tried to unite in the service, in 
Trinity Church, New York City — the 
most respectable in design and size, and 
every way the finest of the imitations of 
the cathedral style, which we have in 
this country — will join with us in the 
expression of the conviction that, however 
beautiful in themselves, however grateful 
in their associations of the past, and with 
the pleasant scenes of other lands ; edifices 
so constructed are not, and in the nature 
of the case cannot be, well adapted to the 
purposes of that form of Sabbath worship 
which centers its interest in the preaching 
and hearing of the Gospel. 

The cathedral was the central glory 
and guide of its time. Before its high 
altar the whole people clustered ; there 
en masne they were swayed by the choice 
music, by priestly appeal from pulpits 
here aiid pulj^its thefre, And by the qpidk 



sympathy which croWds do generate, tii 
its clustering chapels they confessed their 
sins, and received ghostly absolution. — 
From its mullioned windows with theur 
"storied panes" and its agglomerated 
sculptures, they gathered their rude ide^ 
of history, sacred and profane. A per- 
fect cathedral of the middle ages was an 
immense museum of objects of popular 
interest, and thither, in lieu of books, the 
people went to be amused and instructed, 
as well as saved. The great cathedral 
churches at Chartres and RHeims, to this 
day, retain, on the one hand, some thousands 
of figures illustrating the Old and New 
Testament history, and, on the other, 
ranges of statues carrying the annals of 
France down to the period when the 
work was done ; and, interspersed, wehavoi 
in the same mgh-dialect, a whole system of 
moral philosophy ; the virtues and vicies ; 
the arts of peace and the tools of husban- 
dry ; while over all are seen the heavenly 
host, with angel, and arch-angel, and 
cherub, and seraph. Nor was this alL 
The illustrious dead were buried there ; 
and thus patriotism linked itself with the 
memories that clustered — in the passing 
centuries — around their tombs. ^ Much of 
this is now changed, even in Catholic 
countries, by the progress of popular edu- 
cation, causing the masses to outgrow the 
need and enjoyment of these architectu- 
ral features. As Victor Hugo beautifully 
says — and it is true in a sense in which 
perhaps he hardly intended it — *'ceci tuera 
cela : le livre tuera TEglise.'* The book 
is killing the cathedral, though not the 
Church. Protestantism killed the cathe- 
dral. It has only had a lingering and 
inconsistent life mnce Wiclif and Lu- 
ther and Knox. And it cannot, we think, 

1 A tablet io WMtmiiutor Abbey by the sldt of 
thoMof Beo Johnion, aod Sponeer, andDryden. and 
Thompeon, and Gray, a&d Qoldmiith. and Addison, 
and Handel, and Bnmi and Soott, to now the goal of 
UtoraryfSune to Bngllshmen ; a« a retting plaoe onder 
the sane dome witii Abereromble, aod Brock, and 
Oollingwood, and Oomwallli, and QlUesple, and Bai^ 
dingo and Moore, and Neleon, and Pakenhan, and 
Poneonby , a^d MalooJm^ «^d Wi^n|toa, to an 
fttvt to win glory on tiit Add of baifctto. 



200 



MeeUng-HouHB. 



[Apbh^ 



be denied hy intelligent observers that the 
Paseyism which has developed itself in 
and around the old shrines of Popeiy in 
England gives color of truth to that harsh 
old saying of the Reformer of St An- 
drews : " the best way to keep the rooks 
from retoming, is to pull down their 
nests." 

So far, then, as the ecclesiastical archi- 
tecture of the past has been shaped by 
the ideas which led to the congenial use 
of the deserted b^nlicas of the Bomans, 
and afterward to the erection of churches 
and cathedrals on the same basilican plan ; 
or so far as it has been modelled — con- 
sciously or unconsciously — after them ; it 
is not purely Christian in its derivation, 
influence, or sympathies. It is radically 
incompatible with the fundamental prin- 
ciples which govern Congregational wor- 
ship. We never felt this more stiongly 
than when, some years since, listening to 
a rationalistic sermon from Calvin's pulpit 
in the little cathedral of Geneva ; where, 
as the sonorous periods rolled in confused 
reverberations among the nooks and cor- 
ners of the building, we could distinctly 
hear just enough to satisfy us that a bet- 
ter sermon would be inhumanly used in 
being so ** tortured, not accepting deliv- 
rance." 

The idea which governed the worship 
of the primitive Christians, very clearly 
was that of union and communion in 
praise and prayer, and of instruction from 
the voice of him who was ** over them in 
the Lord." A house constructed to pro- 
mote this worship would necessarily make 
these two its cardinal principles, viz : (1.) 
it must seat all the worshippers socially 
and pleasantly together, so that, with as 
few obstructions as possible, they may 
blend thought and emotion ; and (2.) it 
must seat them so that their relation to 
the teacher shall be, as nearly as possible, 
perfect for' his speaking to them, and their 
listening to him. Had the primitive faith 
remained in its simplicity, and these ideas 
continued to shape (as there can be little 
doobt that — ^in the rude Chriitian temples, 



bmlt in the second, and beginning of the 
third centuries — they did at first shape) 
the architecture of the Church ; we should 
long ago have seen the solution of the 
problem which yet perplexes the brain of 
our builders, — how, in the highest degree, 
to combine the comfort of a Christian 
assembly in their public worship, with all 
the demands of the ordinary principles of 
architecture on the one hand, and of the 
historic canons of good taste for Church 
edifices, on the other. We should have 
had a history which would have been 
itself a safe guide ; and should not have 
been compelled, as now, (in our eccle- 
siastical edifices) to violate the associa- 
tions of the past, or to retain those associa- 
tions at the continual sacrifice of more or 
less of the special appropriateness of these 
ediGces to their design. 

When our Pilgrim Fathers reproduced 
the Apoi>tolic Church, in the Apostolic 
spirit, they came again under the influence 
of those cardinal principles which governed 
that Church in its worship; and they, 
naturally, carried them out in their meet- 
ing houses, so far as their poverty, of 
knowledge and means, would permit. 
And it is very likely that He, who watches 
the Church with an eternal eye, saw in 
the first rude temples of New England a 
nearer approach to those of the anto- 
Constantine era, than any other age or 
land had known ; as we confidently be- 
lieve that He recognized in the simple 
rites which were performed within their 
humble walls, a more exact reproduction 
of the worship of the primitive believers, 
than the earth anywhere else afforded. 

We hold, then, that the essential and 
shaping idea which ought to govern the 
erection of houses for the public worship 
of Almighty God— especially and pre- 
eminently where they are to be used by 
Congregational churches — is not that of 
having a particular form and aspect like 
those which in the English or Papal 
churches have been for ages associated 
with them; nor that they must be cruci- 
form ** because the religion of Christ cm- 



1859.] 



Medkg-Bottset. 



201 



cified is to be preached wit^n their 
walls;" (see Harfs Parish Churches, p. 
21.) nor that thej must necessarily have 
a distinct nare and side aisles, and tran- 
septs (if of large size) ; nor that they 
mast necessarily front the east, or some- 
how Symbolize the Holy Trinity;' but that 
they should minister, in the most simple 
and direct possible manner, to the ease 
and comfort with which the people may 
** sit together in heavenly places in Christ 
Jesus,'* and "receive with meekness the 
engrailed word which U able to save their 
souls." Social Christian comfort in speak- 
ing and hearing, and in all the services of 
the sanctuary, we believe was the original, 
and is the genuine, and will be the mil- 
lennial principle from trhich, as from a 
living seed, the idea of a truly appropriate 
(and therefore truly Christian) meetings 
house will grow. And it is time that our 
churches understood this and had the 
courage to assume it as the corner-stone 
of Christian art, and build upon it. They 
have long enough put themselves at a 
disadvantage, by the assumption that ba- 
silican and cathedral architecture, which 
was the sympathetic and congenial out- 
growth of false and Pagan ideas engrafted 
on the Christian system, is so far Chris- 
tian architecture that it is severely disre- 
spectful and indefensibly inartistic, if not 
actually unchristian, to differ from it 
Others* have had penetration enough, long 

1 « Qothle art wan crested upon Theological, Sccle- 
•tastical and Mjcdcal prlnclplet , and whatMMTer plan 
ba adopted, whether it 1b that which embodies the 
nare, chancel and Ninctuarj, or all of thene with the 
addition of aisles, or their combination with the ad- 
dition of transepts ; th^ ever-pre$ent symbol of the 
Holy Trinity will be found in them all ; that is, the 
nare, being the commencement of the church, would 
in the language of the designer be read the Father, 
and being the first part, Is of none. The chancel or 
erora (and whkh is as it were made to arise out of 
the naTe) is of the naTe alone as the Son from the 
Father ; and the holy of holies is of the nare and of 
the chancel, proceeding from them, as the Spirit 
from the Father and the Son.'- — HarVa Parish 
Churches, p. 20. 

* *'As the peouliaf habita and religious faith of the 
old English people, did mature a characteristic mode 
of buildings, a national Eccleslastleal Archltcetnn 
for thdr religioua requirements, and many still ezlsfe 

VOL. I. 26 



ago, to discern the incongmity of that 
architecture with any other * 83r8tem of 
religion than that which was the meat 
that first grew within it and gave form to 
its shaping shell, and have smiled as they 
have seen Unitarian parishes unwittingly 
committing themselves to a multiplied 
symbolism of the Trinity, in the very 
shape and sign-language of their repro- 
duction of some old Gothic temple ; or a 
Congregational Church, whose first prin- 
ciples are those of simplicity of worship 
and the parity of its membership, uncon- 
sciously recognizing, in its chancelled 
house, a separation into classes, and sol- 
emn altar-mysteries which must be shield- 
ed from irreverent approach. Suum 
cuique. However well the mysteries of 
orientation, and chancel screen and arch, 
and parclose, and sacristry, and altar, 
and sedilia, and piscina, and credence 
shelf, and lectern, may fit and edify onr 
High Church friends, they are not for us. 
They may be essential to their peace of 
mind ; may add to their very cleanness of 
conscience. We remember the medieval 
proverb : *^ quisquis amat ran am, ranam 
putat esse Dianam," and we will not quar- 
rel with them for their taste. But we 
shall gain, as well in their respect as in 
our own, when we eschew all senselev 
and irrelevant imitations of inappropriate 
models, and set up for ourselves as Eccle- 
siastical Architects, letting the spirit of onr 
Church theory clothe itself in an outward 
form that shall be as appropriate for it, 
as their cathedral style b, and will always 
be, for theirs. 

This work our Pilgrim Fathers, with 
great good sense, began. It remains for 
us to take their too plain and bald idea, 
and carry it out with what skill and taste 
we can command — not by going down to 
the Egypt of the dark ages for architec- 
tural help, but by falling back upon the 
first principles of the science of building, 

as monuments of their Ikitb ', so do I conclude and 
believe that the church arohitectnre of England ena 
hare no true existence under a ^ystedi Ibralgn to Imt 
own."— Hart, p. 16. 



1202 



MeeUnff'Eaus^. 



[Apbo^ 



and applying them to our demand, with 
use of saoh raggestioDS, gathered from the 
pas^ as are not linked with ideas radically 
inconsistent with, or even hostile to, our 
own. It would be foolish not to take 
adrantage of whatever associations exist 
in the popular mind, with the consecrated 
edifices of the past, which rightfully be- 
long as much to us as to any branch of 
the Church ; whose symbolism is of the 
general idea of worship, and not of any 
particular idea, germane to the Papacy or 
the Episcopacy, but alien to us. Thus 
we would, by all means, avail ourselves of 
that association, into which the mind of 
the world has been for ages educated, 
which has assigned one special, though 
diverse outward form, to edifices dedicated 
to the Divine worship. It is a grateful 
sight to see a landscape tufled with the 
recognized emblems of the Christianity of 
the land. 

** Aa star that ahiofls dependent upon aur 

If to the iky while we look np In lore ; 

Aa to the deep, fUr ahlpe which though they more 

Seem flzed to eyea that watoh them from a&r ; 

Aa to the aandy deeert- fountains are, 

With palm groTes Hhaded at wide InterTals, 

Where f^uit arouod the ounburDt Natire falls 

Of roTiog tired, or desultory war ; 

Such to the Britiiih lale her Christian fanes 

Baeh linked to each for kindred aenrices ; 

Her Spires, her Steeple-towers with glittering yanva 

Far-kenntMi, her Chapels lurking among tree*, 

Where a few Tillager^ on bended kneea 

find aolaee which a busy world diadaina.'' i 

It is a grateful sight ; and there is noth- 
^ ing in a church spire, or a general out- 
ward church-ly look, which suggests any- 
thing inappropriate to the severest sim- 
plicity of our Denominational system; 
but there is a hold upon the popular feel- 
ing in it which we cannot afibrd to ignore ; 
and which need not prevent us — if we 
accept it — from purging it of all pagan 
dross, and adapting it most thoroughly to 
the uses of our own necessity. We pass, 
then, to consider, as briefly as we may, in 
detail, such minor principles as seem to us 
essential to the realization of the desired 
result in the erection of meeting-houses 
for Congregational churches. 

1. Position. The same rule which 
t Wordawovlh, loolctiaafeienl Sonneta, Part Ui., zUL 



shapes the fashion of the house to the best 
convenience of the worshippers, demands 
that its location consult the same con- 
venience. This will have respect to 
access, beauty, quietness, and light For- 
merly, in our New England towns, the 
meeting-house was very apt to be vigor- 
ously demanded to be placed either in the 
geographical center of territory, or at an 
average remove finom most of the houses 
of the worshippers, or at some road-fork 
which might be thought to meet the aver- 
age of convenient access — without much 
reference to any other consideration. 
Long and grievous quarrels not unfre- 
quently arose out this question of loca- 
tion. ' In Bedford, N. U., after discussions 
reaching from the settlement of the town 
in 1737, to 1755^-during which time the 
matter was once ** left out " to the decis- 
ion of a Londonderry Committee, and an 
attempt was made to refer it to the Gen- 
eral Court — ^it was finally voted, unan- 
imously, on the 22d of September, of the 
latter year, ** that all votes and conclu- 
sions that have been voted and concluded, 
concerning fixing a place to build a meet- 
ing house on, in this town, be, and hereby 
are, null and void." 

When other considerations would permit, 
it was customary to plant the meeting-house 
upon the summit of the highest hill in town, 
so as to make it visible from a long distance. 
Many a fisherman, oflf Scituate, has pros- 
pected tor cod by help of the bearings of 
the ** Parson*s sloop ;** as many a sailor, 
steering in from the broad Atlantic, has 
hailed with joy that old structure on 
a lofty swell of Truro, which used to look 
as if it might have stood for Ossian's 
limning : ** the dark brown years have 
passed over it ; it stands alone on the hill 
of storms ; it is seen afar by the mariner 
as he passes by on the dark rolling wave." 
Of later years, there has been a tendency 
to put our Church edifices on the most 
frequented corners ; on town squares, and 
among banks and stores ; sometimes to the 
great discomfort of quiet-loving worship- 
pers. 



1859.] 



MeeUng-Hoiuea. 



203 



Other things being equal, that rite 
which combines most of convenience of 
access to those who are to worship in it ; 
of comeliness, in itself, and in its effect 
npon the locality ; of repose (for week day 
sendee as well as for Sabbath use) ; and 
of adaptation to the best demands of light 
and yentilation; is the best rite for a 
house in which to worship Grod. While 
the angry contests of the past were not of 
a character to invite repetition, it is still 
true that the selection of an appropriate 
building spot for a new church-edifice, is 
a matter of importance, second only to 
the question of its character when erected. 
The best place ought to be secured, at 
any cost ; best not merely now, but rea- 
sonably sure to remaiii best through all 
the changes of the coming century. Spe- 
cially is this true of thickly settled and 
growing towns. Many a city Church has 
been gradually weakened, and at last 
destroyed, by a mistake made in the loca- 
tion of its meeting-house; or has been 
obliged to sacrifice its historical associa- 
tions, by subsequently transplanting itself 
from an outworn soil, to a more fertile 
spot. It was a far-sighted policy which, 
in Boston, planted Park Street Church 
— at what then seemed an immense cost — 
on its invaluable comer ; which, though 
objectionable for noise, is yet, and is likely 
indefinitely to remain, in porition, unsur- 
passed (as, of late years, in other maUers,) 
for popular attraction. 

2. Material, Our early structures here 
were almost always of wood, forests bein^ 
more plentiful than quarries; and, per- 
haps afterward, from the fashion which 
the abundance of timber had first inaug- 
urated. In Virginia they began as we 
did, but afterwards resorted to solider 
materials. The first meeting-house at 
Jamestown, was of logs. The second, 24 
feet by 60 feet, was of wood, and was 
burned in the rebellion, in 1676. The 
third — 28 feet by 56 feet, with a tower 
18 feet square, and SO feet high — ^built 
probably soon after that date, was of 
brick, and its romantic ruins still beautify 



the shore of the James River. Quite a 
number of the church erections of the 
early days still remain in the Old, Domin- 
ion, and in a condition for use, in conse- 
quence of the durableness of their mate- 
rials. Among these are the TVilliams- 
burg Church, Bruton Parish — a brick 
cruciform structure, with a very English- 
looking, low tower, prowned by a two-story 
turret — built not far from 150 years ago ; 
St John's, Hampton, also cruciform, built 
between 1660 and 1697, and which, 
though used as a barrack by the British, 
in the war of 1812, and afterwards, for 
years, a common shelter for straying ani- 
mals, was repaired and reconsecrated in 
1830, and is now a very comely and com- 
fortable house ; the Old Smithfield, whose 
inunensely thick brick walls and solid 
tower have resisted the tooth of time for 
227 years, and are now in good condition ; 
and the old Blandford Church, whose 
ivied gables still shelter the funeral ser- 
vices of the Blands^ and others, who lie 
down to their long rieep under the stretch 
of its evening shadows. Nor are we alto- 
gether wanting here in rimilar legacies of 
the past King's Chapel, Boston, (of 
stone) was finished in 1754; the Old 
South, and Brattle Street, (both of brick) 
in 1730 and 1773. The Old South can 
almost parallel the barrack experience of 
St John's, above, and Brattle Street might 
adopt the lines which Rev. John McCabe 
has connected with St Paul's, Norfolk, 
Va.; 

" Go It, time his mtrk bat Iraog ; 
Do it, hovtUe balli havv ning ; 
On It, green old moM bat clung ; 
On It, winds their dirge hM!W9 sang." 

It is indisputable that there is a power 
of pleasant association connected with a 
meeting-house so built as to abide through 
the centuries, and become, through gen- 
erations, interwoven with the awe of 
childhood, and the dreams of youth, and 
the sober faith of manhood, and the fond 
faltering reminiscence of age, which is 
not to be despised as an element of power 
over the mind. It is the boast of some 
Yii^ians that none of their families^ have i 



tJtiitala 



2Mt MeeH^ffouiits. [Amuk^ 

ever become ^ Difsenten,** becaose thoj e^a ached, as we kave ae^n oar New 

have always been drawn by every tender, England parishes expending from five to 

as well as sacred association, to the forms twenty, or thirty thoosand. doIlarB, upon 

and places of worship which connect them the erection of a gingerbread stmctare of 

with that family antiquity of which they imported jcMst and plank and clapboard 

are so proud. The old Aquia Church, and putty, and pigments ; with a spire, 

between Alexandria and Fredericsburgh, saddling the roof, that is almost sure to 

Ya., which had gone out of repair, and blow over in a sudden gust, and smash its 

become disused, and lost its hold upon the way to terra firma; that is reliable for 

depopulated community around it, has reiterated repairs and perennial paint, but 

within the last two or three years been for little else, unless it may be chronic 

renovated, and gathered a congregation bad taste ; and thati unless sooner burned 

anew, and become once more the foun- by a delect in a flue, i^ twenty-five years, 

tain of healing to the people, mainly at the outside, will relieve the patience of 

through the power of these associations the community by being superseded by 

over the minds of a few families. something more sensibje; when they 

It is undeniable, also, that there is a stumble weekly to the service within its 
silent testimony to religion itself in the walls, over ledges and boulders, which, if 
manner in which we construct God's put into the hands of a cunning mason, 
temples, which deserves to be considered, would not only improve the land by their 
If we build for Divine worship, as if we absence, but erect — ^for the same or less 
were presupposing that the use of our money — a home-made edifice, whicl^ would 
building would be temporary, do we tes- last for generations, and grow dearer, as it 
tify our faith in the eternity of God and grew more picturesque, as the years glide 
of his truth ? do we publicly declare our on. There is a church edifice in Tann- 
conviction that our children, and our ton, Ms., erected perhaps a quarter cen- 
children's children, to the latest genera- tury ago, by the Unitarian parish, whose 
tion, ought to worship Him as we do now ivied walls show how comely and even 
—as we ought (and might) if we erected beautiful a house may be that b built of 
our church edifices as though we had faith just such little homely stones as our far- 
to believe there would be a use for them mers pile into their fences to be rid of 
while the world stands ? Wordsworth them in the meadows. The same pleas- 
says, of King's College Chapel, Cam- ant town now has three other fine stone 
bridge; — meeting-houses, subsequently built by 
" They dreuni oot of a perishable home Other parishes ; demonstrating for its in- 
Who thiu could boUd '» habitants a good taste which we admire, 
and if learning is to be co-existent with and trust may be widely imitated, 
the earth, yet more is religion. And Where stone cannot be had, or is abso- 
there is no reason why those who believe lutely beyond the means at disposal, brick, 
in a Church without a Bishop, and a State if ^ell used, may take its place. But we 
without a King, should not adopt for their heartily agree with a remark in the " Book 
own temples, the language of the same of Plans," published in 1853 by the Com- 
poet, of the Cathednds of his land : — mittee of the Albany Convention, (p. 19) 

" Open yonr gaUevy* wttkuiUng piiea ! that " nothing less enduring than stone is 

Typei of ehe ipiritiial church which Qod hath really appropriate for the walls of the 

house of God ; nothing less enduring is in 

We go, then, alwi^ys for the most keeping with the enduring purpose of 

enduring material fof a meeting-house such a structure, or fit to be rendered 

which the circumstances of" the, case will, unto Him who b from everlasUng to ever- 

peonit AjA^inDt hearts have lasting ; and the erection of anything less 




1859^) Meetrnff-Eimtu. 205 

nlMUiitUl fin ■ booM of wonhip u to be to Hie beat demand* of all claims for use 
tolerated only fiam the necenity of the nude upon it The thitd point is to clothe 
CMB, or as a tempomj expedient** such an ioterior with an external aspect 

Evenirtheentcaatofameeting-houae that shall at once suggest its sacred use, 
of stODe exceed its ccet in wood; in the and be, at least, simple, appropriate, self- 
and, if well built, it will prove the cheap- consistent and reverent ; or, if funds per- 
eat And the very maasiveness of its mit, beautiful, elaborate and impressive, 
aspect gives it coraelinesa, however simple There is no danger, if the interior is Grat 
itastjle. Trinity Church, Boston, (1B29) adapted to Congregational uie, and the 
(/which the following is a fine represen- exterior developed from that, that we 
(Mian, thoagh very plain in its detaila, shall hare many cruciform and chancelled 
X remark. houses, with great pillon holding up the 

roof of the nave, yet rendering scores of 
sittings useless to their occupants. That 
folly is the growth of a logic which rea- 
•ODS the other way ; assuming that the 
cathedral style is the true one for the 
external form, aud then getting out of it 
as good an internal adaptation to our uses 
as the difficult circumstances of the cose 
will warrant 

We believe, that, in modified forms, 
almost all styles of the church architecture 
One thing, at least, may be considered of the past may be so adapted to Congre- 
aettted alike by Christian trathfolness and gational use as not to be incongruous wiih 
good taste ; that whatever material is used, it. This is particularly true of the Gothic 
should be honeilly used. If rough ashlar, A beautiful church-edifice — 94 feet by 47 
rough ashlar let it be, with joints neatly feet, with tower and spire of 200 feet — 
pwnted, and not smeared with plaster and last year erected, of white Stoorton stone, 
lined into the semblance of blocks ; if for Congregational use in Birkenhead, 
brick, let it be honest brick — not bedaubed oppowte Liverpoid, Eng., illustrates oar 
with mastic, that will begin to peel and remark. Here the chancel of 12 feet 
scatter as soon as it is dry; if wood, let it depih, is reUuned for its outside effect, 
be honest wood — not punted and sanded but used in its lower floor for a rear en- 
into a sand-stone that is sham-stone, and trance and two retiring lOoms, and in its 
that is incongruous with every idea of tecond story for an organ and choir gal- 
fealty to a God who sees through all dis- lery open to the house ; so that externally 
gnises, and demands truth lirst, midst, we have the old look, while all internal 
last, of bis worshippers. incongruity is .removed. This is some- 

3. External Style, A coal must be cut times done also with the cruciform style, 
according to its cloth 1 and the money that by using one transept as a chapel for 
can be rightly expended upon a meeting- evening service ; the other for a Sabbath 
house, must govern its external style, school room; and the chancel for the min- 
The first point is, if possible, to finish the ister's retiring room and chnrch library : 
building free of debt — if not, at first, in the structure thus having an external 
all its details, then far enough for use, Gothicity which, in its internal arrange- 
leaving to the subsequent increase of nients, isentmily shorn of all that isirrel- 
ability among those who shall worship in evant to simple Congregational use. A 
it, the duty of completing the design, beautiful Gothic house — 95 feet by 46 
The second point is to adapt the inteiur feet, with transepts of 28 feet, and side 



206 



MeeHnff'Simses. 



[Apbsl, 



spire cxf singular beauty, rising to a height 
of 235 feet— of ashlar and Caen stone, has 
lately been erected for Congregational 
use in Halifax, (Yorkshire, Eng.) in 
which outward correspondence with the 
canons of the Gothic style has been hap- 
pily blended with the internal requisitions 
of our method of worship. Here the tran- 
septs are pewed fronting towards the 
pulpit, at right angles to the pews in the 
nave, and the organ stands in the chancel 
arch, with a vestry in the rear. Accom- 
modation is afforded to 1040 adults and 
200 children, at a cost of £15,000, or 
about $75,000. 

The great canon of taste in regard to 
the external style of a house of worship — 
having adapted it to needf\il internal de- 
mands, and given it a non-secular look — 
is never to mix styles. Whatever be the 
form selected, let it rule every part, so 
that the House of God shall not stand 
among buildings as a circus clown stands 
among men in plain clothes, — a medley 
from which nothing, but good sense, is 
excluded. 

4. Steeple. This must be determined, 
as to be, or not to be, and if to be, how 
to be, mainly by the general external 
style. And yet it has importance enough 
to justify a separate word. We believe 
that a steeple 

*' whoae Sabbath belief harmonious chime 
Floats on the breexe— the heaTenlieet of all tounds 
That hill or Tale prolongs or multiplies," 

is an essential of the true idea of a build- 
ing for God*8 worship, especially in the 
country. In the city all do not need 
them. But the simple reminder of the 
duty of worship, and the sanctity of the 
day, which is lost to a community in the 
absence of a bell to call to the house of 
prayer, is worth too much to be sacrificed. 
Erase our church towers and spires, and 
what a cheerless and hcatl^en aspect 
would our landscapes take on ! 

Church-edifices had towers two centu- 
ries before they had bells, and it is diffi- 
cult to fix the precise idea which gov- 
erned the erection of the earliest At 



first, they were circular like that, nine 
stories high, of the three aisled basilica 
still standing at Ravenna (S. Martino in 
Cielo d'Oro;) and that leaning at Pisa. 
Pope Adrian I. (A. D. 772-795) buUt 
the first square tower in Rome, and they 
soon became common. That of Sta. Maria 
in Cosmedin, illustrates the early square 
style. It is perhaps 15 feet by 15, and 
110 feet high; without aperture for the 
first third of its height, then having two 
stories with two double round-topped win- 
dows on each side, followed by five stories 
with triple windows, of similar design, on 
each side, topped by a slight cornice and 
simple pyramidal roof, sloping at an angle 
of near 45 degrees. The Italians retained 
this chimney-like style through the middle 
ages, and never got beyond clumsily 
mounting an octagon, or a cone, upon the 
square. The Germans and French grad- 
ually pushed up the tower roof, first into 
gables ; then into a sort of blunt pike 
point; next into a sharp pyramid with 
heavy turrets supporting the comers ; 
and at last into a slender center spire 
enriched, and shooting out of a mass of 
clustering spirelets, planted upon the 
graduated buttresses of the base. In 
large buildings these were multiplied, 
until they sometimes, as at Laon, had six, 
besides subordinate pinnacles. The ca- 
thedrals very oflen have a principal one 
in the center of the cruciform structure, 
with one subordinate on each side of the 
west front of the nave. Forgetting that 
the shaping idea of a spire is an elon- 
gated roof, and that the very thought of 
a roof includes shelter, some German 
mason — anxious to do a clever thing in 
stone — ^introduced the idea of open work 
spires, of which the fine specimen at Fri- 
burg, 385 feet from the pavement, the 
spire itself being 155 feet, is the most 
pleasing single example, and the two less 
lofly twins at Burgos, (280 feet) and the 
two, still more diminutive, at Basle, are 
good specimens. All are done in the 
stone of which the cathedral is built — 
There are some miserable imitations, in 



1869:] 



Medu^Bimet. 



207 



wood, in New Tork city, wliicli look like 
magnified martin-boxes, designed by some 
feeble-mi Dded admirer of an old blunder. 
It hu happened that a mere tower has 
been rejected from a builder's plan be- 
cause of its unfinished look — as if fundi 
had failed for the completion of the de- 
Hgn. There is a slyle of rooting wbieb 
we bare seen which saves this, and whieh, 
(if well proportioned,) ma/ be made a 
pleanng feature. The following cut of 
the edifice belonging to the finit parish in 
Charlestowo, Ms., illustrates this — tbe 
tower being topped by a coni-'ave pyra- 
mid elongated by a cruciform linlal. The 
tower of the Prospect street church in 
Cambridgeport, Ms., has a tnmilar temii- 




l Teature in a 
tower, or spire. It should not slick up 
oat of the landn-ape m if some giant had 
driven it rndwise into the earth — not 
knowing what else to do with it ; but 
should rather seem to have grown np to 
its figure under just i^uch a law ol nature 
as always saves an old elm from looking 
like an intruder where it stands, A mod- 
erate tower is less haxanlous to public 
comelinea than a lofty spire, as well aa 



leas expeDnve and mora dnrable. We 
are apt to build our spirea too high. The 
average height of 29 of the spires of Lon- 
don of which we have notes, is but about 
]J5 feet The lofty cathedral steeple* 
which lop out iheir vast cruciform pilei, 
(spreading literally over acres of ground,) 
cannot safely be imitated in connecdoo 
with a house only large enough for the 
use of a congregation in speaking and 
hearing. It is a silly ambition which 
leads one pariah to try to outdo another 
in the height of its stecnle- We have \ 
spire in Boston which looks as if it had 
grown sallow and lean, in standing so long 
on tiptoe trying (o overtop Park streeL 
Until we build for ages, of stone— our 
spires, espeiially if elaborately ornament- 
ed with pilasters and mouldings, will 
be often vexing the tasle, and nearly 
always depleting the pocket It may 
lake a thouaand dollaii to stop a 
leak, Ihat the storm wind makes in a 
sin;{le scurry, anil ihlnkii nothing of. 

Much has lieen said, by wrilen 
who aspire to be authorities, against 
(hy plai'iiig of the sleeplt on the tor- 
ner of the buihling ; aii lieing against 
tliv ''aiions. Many of the Parish 
chiiri'hes of I.^ndou. built by Wren, 
tiowcter. have tlii> peculiarity ; even 
sotiielimeK when the lower does not 
sliind Hi ihi^ comer of two streets. 
M Andn-w'v. L'nilemhalt ; St. Bene- 
dict's, Paul's Wharf; St. Mary's, So- 
miTBi't ; St. Catherine Cree ; St. Mi- 
chael's, Paternoster ; Allhallows, tbe 
Ureal ; St Mary's Abcburt-h ; 8l 
Mary le Bow, Cheapside ; St. tiwitb- 
in'a; St. Mildred's ; St Margaret's, Loth- 
bury : St. Ma^y■^ Aldermary ; Allhallowi, 
lAHiibard Street, and others, are instances 
ot this: while St. Bartholomew's, by the 
Bank ; Allhallows, Bread Street; St Al- 
ban's. Wood Street; Si. Clement's, East 
cheap and St Nicholas', t'ish Street Hill, 
are instances where Wren built steeples 
on tbe corners of churches, in direct jux- 
tapOMtioR with adjacent buildings, and 
■as in Allhalkiwa— when the 



I 



208 Meeta^ffames. [Amt» 

corner was nnoccnped ! Probably peo- Manchester, N. H^ wbicb is nearly the 

pie have a right to build steeples where best for acoustic effetcs that we ever saw. 

they please, and if they can make them If we are not misinfbrmed, they are those 

look well on the comer of a building, so of the Federal Street House in Newbury- 

much the better, inasmuch as it, at least, port, which is famous for its ** whispering 

secures attention to the first canon in gaUery," but which is, in &ct, in eveiy 

regard to a spire, that it ought to start part, a '* whispering " house — so easy for 

visibly fVom the ground ; makes a less speaking and hearing, that a Psalm read 

absolute height produce a greater relatiye from the pulpit, in the lowest possible dia- 

effect ; and saves for use some of the best tinct utterance, is perfectly audible fhNU 

room in the house, opposite the pulpit, every seat We do not pretend to ofier 

which it would spoil if planted there. any scienti6c reason why this particular 

5. Proportion, The early tendency proportion should be more effective than 

was to great length. The proportions of any other, but we throw out the suggea- 

^e Parish churches in England still show tion as the result of no little thought, 

the same tendency. Hart suggests 90 inquiry and experiment of our own, and 

feet by 30 feet as the proportion for a to commend it to the thought of othen. 
nave. From minutes of 41 of the Parish 6. Pulpit. The less pulpit the better 

churches of London, we find that they for the preaching. And yet, as with us 

average not far from 80 feet in length, by it is the focus of eyes, and interest, the 

64 feet in width, by 84 feet in interior pulpit must not subside into absolute in- 

height ; or, roughly, their dimensions mgnificance. The best way is to have its 

would be not far from the ratio of 8, by platform raised from three to five feet 

5^, by 8^ This, we are satisfied, is not from the floor, according to the size of 

the best interior proportion for acoustic the house, the presence or absence of 

purposes, as it surely has not width enough galleries, &c. ; riuled in by a low balua- 

for its length, to seat socially and con- trade ; and itself so shaped as, from the 

veniently the greatest number of persons front, to have a sufiiciently dignified look, 

in a given space. The front rows crowd with the addition of just desk enough 

the rear ones too far from the speaker's above it to hold the Bible open before the 

voice, before as many are seated in such speaker. This desk top should slide, for 

a room as often wish to worship together, the purpose of ready adjustment to the 

If a strip of width were added, it would convenience of preachers of diff*erent 

bring its tier of people into ear-shot, with- height and scope of vision. The chairs, 

out robbing any, already present, of their or sofa, ought always to be upon the same 

privilege of hearing. But if width is level with that on which the speaker 

added, something must be reduced in stands when addressing the audience, so 

height, or too much vacant space is created as to avoid all possibility of trip or fall, 

to be comfortably filled by one voice. It would be well, abo, to have the pulpit 

After research and experiments run- provided with some ready but noiseless 

ning through the last fifteen years, we means of communication with the sexton, 

are of opinion that the proportion of 9, by ao as to enable the preacher instantly, and 

7, by 3, is as nearly perfect for acoustic without ostentation, to command his ser- 

purposes, and for the conveniencb of seat- vices at any needed point, and for any 

ing the largest number in a given space, desired purpose. In the new meeting- 

as any ratio that can be named. Thus a house of the Broadway Church in Nor- 

house 90 feet long, would be 70 feet wide, wich. Conn., this is efiected by a series of 

and 30 feet high, to the center of the arch slides on the inside of the desk near the 

overhead. These are the dimensions of speaker's right hand, which communicate 

the Fnoikttn Street meeting4ioaae in with similar slides in the sexton's teat, 



1869.] 



Medaiff-Bnues. 



209 



\ff meant of wurei painng under the 
floor. 

The best method of lighting the palpit, 
where gas can be had, is, probably, by a 
large cluster burner directly over it in 
the attic, whose light shall be thrown 
down» through a ground glass circle in 
the ceiling, by a powerful reflector, di- 
rectly upon the desk. A sod and diflused, 
yet sufficiently distinct, light may thus be 
gained which will not put out the eyes of 
speaker or hearers, nor intrude itself in 
any manner, upon their attention. Where 
gas cannot be had, an argand burner of 
laige size, fitted with a reflector, and sus- 
pended at a suitable height over the 
speaker's head, will be found a pleasant 
and successful expedient 

7. PewB. The original orthography of 
this word was pue^ from the Dutch puye ; 
and the earliest, were simply low wooden 
seats with wainscoting between tbem, 
much like our present style, without its 
comfortable slopes. The high sided and 
square pew is said to have come into 
TOgue about the time of the Reformation, 
and the story is that it was designed so far 
to conceal the worshippers within, that 
external eyes could not detect, on their 
part, a want of compliance with the order 
lo bow at the name of Jesus, in tlie ser- 
vice. The pew of the Lord of the manor 
in an English parish church resembled a 
private box in a theatre, and had a sepa- 
rate entrance from outside, and sometimes 
was furnished with a fire-place, a hat- 
stand and arm-chairs. The earliest pew 
now remaining in 'use, is said to be in 
Eddington St Mary, Northamptonshire, 
with the date of 1602. 

Circular pews are a real improvement 
for Congregational worship, because they 
arrange the audience socially and 8}'mpa- 
thetically together, while giving them the 
best position toward the speaker. Their 
increased cost is a drawback. This may 
be avoided almost wholly, and ttio same 
effect produced, by building the pews on 
the chords of their arcs, instead of on 
their arcs themselves. They will then all 

VOL. X. S7 



bo straight pewt in circular places ; at 
will be illustrated by a design near the 
close of this article. Pew doors are a 
useless, wasteful and slamming abomina- 
tion, that ou;;ht not to be toKrated in the 
House of the Ix)rd. Stuffing the backs of 
pews is a needless expense. If a suffi- 
cient backward slope is given to the rear, 
the pew will be easier for use with simply 
a good hair cushion on the seat than if 
upholstered throughout; and a good many 
dollars may be saved. 

8. Galleries. Meetinfj^-honses in cities 
and laigc towns, and wherever the popu- 
lation is sure to furnish hearers, and the 
expenses of worship are borne by the 
pews — should be built with galleries at' 
the sides and end, for economy's sake. 
Some additional hundreds of people can 
thus be accommodated, and the general 
rate of charge be reduced by their partici- 
pation, without one cent of additional 
expenditure for land, or for the current 
expenses of worship, and with but com- 
paratively slight increase of cost in the 
erection of the house. They should be 
pitched low, and should slope up from 
the front so as to make the rear seats 
desirable. They should have ample stair- 
ways, which, where possible, should be 
carried up visibly inside the house, at 
least in part, as adding to the apparent 
homogeneity of the whole structure, and 
preventing those who sit in the gallery 
from feeling that they are, somehow, rather 
second-hand worshippers. The pews should 
be as well finished, and as comfortable for 
occupancy as any in the house. Tht* gal- 
leries should be amply supported by iron 
columns underneath, so slender as not to 
interfere with vision below ; and their 
weight, with that of their contents, should 
not be trusted to brackets that may burst 
from their connections in the wall ; nor 
hung upon rods dragging from the roof- 
timbers. The parapet should be low, and 
the front thrown into some light and 
graceful form, so as to relieve what else is 
in danger of seeming heavy and clumsy. 

9. Organ and Choir. It seems to be a 



Ibcd &et tii^t Congregational ibging is mnrical cfflTeet ivlien iSnging done, and 

Co be reitored, at least in part, in the in the best position to lead the congregar 

order of the worship of God's house ; and tioa to congregational singing, when that 

when all tiie children shall learn to mng is attempted. And if the choir is ever 

as they learn to read, the people will be wholly disused, no vacant space suggests 

fitted for it We doubt if, in the present a want of fitneas between the present and 

generation, it can be successfully carried the past Probably fifty dollars would 

09 without the aid of a choir. The post- cover the additional expense made necea- 

j6oD/Of the oigan and its singing group sary by this construction of the organ ;"* 

ought, however, to be in part determined while an organ so placed would do itself 

by this probability, so as not to make the so much better jusfice than it can do 

house seem ill-built and passd, when the where it usually stands, that an instm- 

Cneral culture in song may perhaps ment of perhaps one-fifth smaller nee 
ing about the entire dismissal of choirs, would answer the same purpose. 
Is is very difficult for a congregation to 10. Subordinate Rooms, These ought 
keep in time with an organ in the old to include — where possible — for every 
place in the gallery — ^for the same reason church, a chapel for social, and prayer- 
that it would be difficult to unite in prayer meetings, a Sabbath School room — fitted 
with a speaker standing there. It is not with low seats, maps, pictures. Sec., &c. — 
ihe focus of the house. It b like a con- a committee room, and pastor's retiring 
gregation in one room and an organ in room, which should be as near the pulpit 
another, with a door open between. The as the plan can allow. In cities and 
oigan and choir ought to be as near the large towns, it is important also to have a 
focus of a house as possible, so as to be young men's room, to be used as a read- 
situated relatively to the people as the ing room, library, &c., &c., where the 
speaker is, that the audience may join in young men, who have no home but some 
the singing, just as they join in the Ian- poor boarding house attic, may feel at 
guage of prayer. The best place for the home, and be drawn to spend their eve- 
oigan, then, unquestionably b in a recess nings, away from the temptations of the 
beliind the pulpit, (arched toward the streets, the billiard rooms, and liquor 
house, so as to throw its volume of tone saloona Wherever land b abundant and 
ibrward,} and (when there are galleries) cheap, and means can be secured, these 
about midway between the level of the ought to be addenda to the main edifice 
platform where the preacher stands, and on the surface of the ground, and not be 
ihe level of the gallery floor. This has crowded into a sub-story. They may 
the advantage, among others, of releasing, take the outside look of transepts, or chan- 
fi)r sittings, that best part of the house eel, or both ; and so add to the exterior 
where the oxgan used to stand. There comeliness of the erection. Or they may 
are objections, however, to putting the , gob^uauy tu. ttnn(..«>t i. «».iy m>«D. 
chmr behind the pulpit Probably the nwDd.! by Riehani Stom wiiu., in Ui vaiubk 
▼eiy best plan would be to have the organ '•*«'• *«*> •»"*• " •>"* Choreh Katie.'' H* «7* 
fill this repess, and have its "action" "••"•> "1^1""^ '""M'llT' .^ " 

^— ' oqpM u» evident It aerres m a digniflurt and onw- 

brought out under the pulpit, to an organ- mental Uckground for Um puipii i it u out of the 

isf S seat fronting the pulpit, and between way, onrapying do pew-room : it to in the beet poe- 

(and in the range oQ the front row of -ftieiK-itkmfhr «and, poaHi^euitofWijohmj. 

'^ -^ 1 I. 1. • v offeoneiototbeopeaoluureh: tbeeholr.'vnttMoUMr 

pews. TTien let the choir sit on each hand, &mp.rtof the ooDgwfatlon, and tbdrmiule 

nde of him, in the front row, or rows, of mostalmoetneoesaarllj proTe eontagloue, and fpvcad 



pews. They wiU then be in the best ♦«> «»»e mt of ihe people. • • • a loweei 

'^ jx. ^ a .^ ^1. nigh)! preteet Iha ocgaotot tnm obfr ra t to p, eo the* 

position— they can^ turn toward tiie au- ^^^ ^^^ ^ ^ ^^ oonipteoogiMia. eiiher eC 

^•nce, when singing, if desirable — for ecgutot or eboir.^* 



1859^ 



Meetiuff-MMtat*. 



Vih 



be, 38 in some of the New York churches, 
so clustered together and upon each other, 
as to fill out an extra quarter of length 
for the main building, preventing that 
^ chunky " look which our meeting-houses 
are apt to have in a side view, especially 
when they are built with lofty spires. 
Where a basement position for these 
rooms is, however, inevitable, they must 
be — as they may be, by care and skill — 
wholly redeemed from any possibility of 
dampness and ill-ventilation. 

One of the most absurd illustrations of 
the way in which fashion has ruled the 
form of our ecclesiastical edifices, was the 
copying, by our country churches — where 
land was superabundant — of the tomb-lika 
** vestries " which were built, thirty years 
ago, under many city meeting-hOuses — 
from stress of poverty, and because ground 
had to be covered with silver before it 
could be got fi>r use. 

11. Lights Warming y and VentUation. 
From too many windows we are in danger 
of getting to have too few. It is better, 
however, to build comparatively few, and 
have their light, than to build so many as 
to be obliged to stop them up with blinds 
without, and blinds within. A pleasant 
effect is produced by a sash of ground, or 
enamelled glass, which subdues the glare 
of the light which it admits, to that soft 
radiance which is most congenial with the 
place of worship. There should be no 
cross lights, and no windows in the end 
behind the speaker. Gas lights should be 
placed overhead, as in the Tremont 
Temple, or as far out of the range of the 
eyes of speaker and hearer as possible. 

Good furnaces, that will not smoke, nor 
emit their gas into their hot-air flues, and 
that are so connected with the external 
air as to send up immense and continuous 
streams of pure air, heated only to a very 
low temperature, are the most successful 
heaters that we have ever seen for a 
meeting-house. But they must be put 
up, and afterwards managed, with skill 
and sense, or they may become an intoler- 
able nuisance. 



Ventilation, as a science, u yet too mnoh. 
in its infancy to warrant sure conclu- 
sions with regard to it In the summer it 
may be tolerably secured by the open 
windows. Tn the winter it must be effect- 
ed by furnishing the means of exit for the 
used air which is crowded up and out by 
the influx of fresh warm air from the fur- 
naces. This may be, at least in part, se- 
cured by ventiducts, at proper distances, 
in the walls ; with registers (which can be 
opened or closed at pleasure) opening 
into them near the main floor, and that of 
the galleries and near the ceiling, which 
communicate in the attic with a central 
ventilating shaft running up in the tower, 
or issuing from the roof in an ** Emer- 
son's " ejector. The upward delivery of 
this shaft must not however be left to 
itself; but must be aided by the heat of 
a cluster of gas burners (properly secured 
by circumjacent tin, from all possible 
risk of fire) which are brought within the 
sexton*s reach in the attic by a littie door 
opening into the ventiduct by their side. 
The new Broadway Church in Norwich, 
Conn., has some very perfect arrange* 
ments of this sort. 

12. Internal Adornment. This must, 
of course, be miunly controlled by the 
general plan ; a Gothic interior requiring 
one style of finish, and a Grecian, another. 
The great rule here must be to avoid all 
*' frescos'^ and other shams. Sham chan- 
cels behind the pulpit, which would be 
absurd if they were real ; sham cornices ; 
and sham pilasters; and shampaneb ; and 
sham domes ; and sham stone-blockings in 
the walls ; and sham oak, or black wal- 
nut, or rosewood, for pulpit or pew, or 
organ; all are an abomination to the 
truth-loving, and therefore out of place 
within walls dedicated to the God of 
truth, who has conmianded us to worship 
him ** in sincerity and in truth." Gravity 
and simplicity and sincerity ought to sit 
enthroned upon the very aspect of God's 
house. Some pleasant neutral tint upon 
the side walls — left a littie rough in the 
plastering, so as to take color weU-HUMl 



«4 

periutpa a Freneb gny overhead, c&n 
hardly Tail to pleaae better than the old 
•taring white, or the elaborate, an<l mcao- 
ingtess or incongruous Rouriahi-a of the 
Italian wall -painters. The gilt pipes of 
the organ, in the recen behind the pulpit, 
will save that end of the house from the 
blank anil ovei^broad look which it might 
Otherwise hare. If the whole finish of 
the houM) is of some of our native woods, 
lefV nnpaintod and Noiply oiled, so as to 
bring out the rich natural grain, an effect 
will be prodoced which will be very 
pleasing, at an expense very much below 
that of the old method of punting and 
graiaing. Chestnut is espedally adapted 
to. this. It is soft and easily wrought; it 
teaaons well ; its grain is richer than oak 
and of a very cheerful hue; and its fint 
cost is now more than one quarter leas 
than that of pine of the same quality. 

We close these scattering suggestions 
by a plui of our own, designed for use in 
the city, where land must be made the 
most of; where meeting-houses must be 
ocmely and attractive ; where everything 
ii e^ipensive; where the pew rents must 
pay the cost of worship j yet where there 
are thousanOs of people in humble pecu- 
niary circumstances, who wish, as well as 
need, the Gospel, but are unable to pay 
high pew rents ; and where, therefore, 
great skill must be used in shaping all the 
alemenls that come into the account to a 
result, which shall not repel the masses 
from the Congregational service. We 
give no advice to (hose who are able to 
build, and pay for, magnificent houses. 
The richer the house the better, if in good 
taste, and paid for ; with a service that 
may not entail a burdensome expense on 
the hearers. We speak for a dilTcrcnt 
sphere. The soldier who was rebuked 
for drunkenness, told Lis commanding 
officer that '* it was unreasonable to 
expect alt the Christian virtues for S7 a 
month;" and so we beg the reader to 
remember that all the architectural vir- 
tnea cannot be looked fiir in a bouse 
ftvgwedly planned to fumiili the most 



[Apni, 



3m least money. On 
design is a comprooiiBe between varioiu 
conflicting interests and elements, and ia 
diffidently presented as meeting the con- 
ditions of the case better, we think, than 
anything we have seen- elsewhere. The 
external elevation is (as below) a plun 
parallelt^ram, 100 feet by 83 feet, in oat> 
nde length and width, with a comer B[Hre, 
20 feet square at the base, and 1 7fi feet in 
height — intended to stand on the jnoMioa 
of two streets. 




FaoHT ViBW. 

The outside is brick, of the simplest 
Bomanesque; and the spire, (resembling 
that of the Church of the Pilgrims, Brook- 
lyn.) be^des having a very pleasing taper 
from the level of the beli-deck, is (we i^ 
it with confidence) at once the strongest 
and cheapest, of the height proposed, which 
canbebuilL From the brick gables above 
the clock, it is to be shingled with round- 
ended shingles ; and as there is neither 
moulding nor panel, nor pilaster, upon its 
whole surface, there are none of the ordi- 
nary chances for leakage, and so tat 
expensive repair. 

The building ia planned fi>r ft lot 100 



1869.] 



Meelalff-JBijiua. 



218 



Aetaqnan, thadirlerelofiriiicb ia fivm naces, toheat thebaiin,at«d«t%DedtolM 
oglit to ten feet below tluU of the (treat, placed at e. e. 

Advantage ii taken of thii lact to intro- The arrangement of tlie main andito- 
dnce a baieiDent (of 13 feet in the clear) rinm will be nnderstood from tlie fbllow- 
wluch is whotlj above ground, except iog plan- 
wbere tfae street abot* agwnit iti front ; a 
green-banked ilope, frnn the ridewalk 
beight of the inner edge <£ each uda of 
the lot to it* level, giving the ride wiadows 
of the basement ^ and light. The Ibl- 
lowing cat will show the general arrange- 
ment of this lower story. 





The main stairs leading down, are in 
the tower. These condnct to a dde pas- 
si^, having on the left the Tonng 
Hen's Room, 3S feet 6 inches, hj 21 
Ibet. Still further, it leads to the Infant 
School BoMU (81 feet 6 inches, by 18 feet) 
and on the left, turns a right angle toward 
the Chapel, 60 feet by 4d feet; and 
the main Sabbath School Room, (ST feet 
by SI feet 6 inches} on the right. Stwn 
(d) lead from the rear entrance of the 
b<nse down to the Minion School 
Boom, (31 feet 6 inches, by IS feel) ; and 
a aeparste flight takes the little cMIdren 
down into their room, safe from the msh 
ofthe main school. These rooms may all 
be thrown together by ^>eoing sliding 
doon (x, x,x) so as to accommodate 1 1 00, 
»r I !00 children. The Chapel is designed 
to seat 42S, and may be enlarged at any 
moment by being thrown into connection 
with the Young Men's Room, or the main 
Sakbadi School Boob. Two large iar- 



ACUITURIL-U. 

The veatibnle explains itself^ and lead* 
directly to the fonr aisles, and, by ataiia 
in the tower, and in the right corner, to 
Ae gallery lloor. The pews are straight 
pews in circular places ; to be bAlt, aa 
■n^ested above, upon the ehoida of their 
arcs, instead of npon those arcs them- 
selves. I An entrAncs Irom the side street, 
cuts off* a ten foot rear passage, which has 
Stairs (c) to the left gallery, (d) to the 
Mission School Room and Chapel be- 
low, and («) to the right gallery ; with 
doors, each wde of the pulpit, to the main 
floor J and with the Pastor's room { 1 7 feet 
by 9 feet) at its end. Thus easy accen 
may instantly be had to any part of the 
bouse, <Tom either end, and the double 
stairways favor the easy dispersion of the 
audience, and are essential to their safety 
in case of an alarm of Ere. The organ- 
ist's seat (o) is (as before su^ested) 
between the front pews; and the choir 
find accommodation in the pews on either 
nde, thus clustering around the pulpit, 
Knd gaining their most effective place in 
the very heart ofthe hotise. 

The galleries explain themselves. The 
organ fills the recess (some 30 feet by 10 
feet) behind the pulpit, and its floor is 
•levated periiaps three fbet above Uia 



m 






rAnHii 



TtMin (IS feet by 9 feet) over the Pastoi^s 
rpom, and anotlier, of the s^me dimen- 
aions, in the correapoading corner on the 
other side, over the rear entrance door. 
A second gallerj over that portion of the 
first, which occupies the breadth of the 
tower, and Ues between it and the stair 
lobby on the other nde, will prevent that 
vacant look which that end of the house 
would otherwise get fi^om the absence of 
the organ, and pleasantly seat a conader- 
ahle number, at a small additional cost 




The entire interior wood work — pews, 
pulpit, organ, gallery front, &c. &c., is 
designed to be of chestnut, simply oiled, 
and the pews to have no upholstering ex- 
cept their seat cushions. The ceiling is 
to be finished up some fifteen feet into the 
roof, in the center (less over the galleries) 
to save height of walls, and promote inte- 
rior comeliness, while from the peculiar 
framework of the roof strength is secured 
instead of weakness, by the process. The 
walls are to be hollow, with the plastering 
directly upon them. By all these various 
economies the cost of the house (we speak 
from the written estimates of experienced 
builders,) will be brought down to some- 
thing less than that which has been usual 
in this city for the erection of houses 
holding few, if any more, than one half 
the number who may find accommodation 
here. 



Itii seating, oapacitj will be as follows, 
allowing 18 inches for each individual^ 
viz: 368 pews^ containing on the main 
fioor, 1,105 ; in the main g^Ieries, 743 ; 
in the second gallery, 209; or 2,056 in 
all— no person of whom, in his seat, would 
be more than about 80 feet distant fi^mi 
the speaker's Ups. 

The average annual expenses of ihe 
various Congregational churches in Bos- 
ton do not fall short of $5,000; which 
sum must be raised from the pews»or 
rest, a mortifying, and sometimes griev- 
ous, and insupportable deficit upon the 
society. That sum divided among 800 
sittings— which- ift about the average num- 
ber (^ those which are taxable in the 
ordinary houses, makes an average rate 
for them of S6 25 each, or, for a pew of 
five sittings, SSO 75 ; which amounts to a 
practical veto upon the attendance of the 
thousands of families whose yearly inoome 
does not exceed $550, and who aver- 
age the ' payment out of that of $160 
for house rent, and are ^erefbre bound 
to consult the most rigid economy in every 
particular, yet who do not wish to adver- 
tise their poverty by sitting in a free seat, 
or a ijery mean one that is not free, in the 
house of God. 

This sum of $5,000, divided among the 
2,000 sittings which would be rentable in 
this proposed house, would make a yeariy 
average rental of only $2 50 each (or of 
$12 50 fbr a pew for five) which puts 
quite a difierent face upon the matter. 
It does not seem to us an extravaa:ant 
estimate, that, in such a sanctuary, a 
preacher might reasonably hope to have 
all needless impediments removed out of 
the way of its being said of him as of his 
Master, " the common people heard him. 
gladly." The experiment of a house re- 
sembling this will at least be tried, without 
delay, in this city, if a Church that has 
long pined under the old system of big 
debts and high rents, can rally help 
enough to their poverty from those who 
love our Lord Jesus Christ, here and 
elsewhere, to pay the bills of its cost 



itm:] 



Uimwy SMAm. 



318 



S00Kd of JniiTist to Con0rje0HfxonaIbis. 



Muttal Philosopbt : In^Mding the InUl^ 
tad, SennMUiet, and WiM, By Jbt^ 
Bamen, Putflutor oflmtOUotml ami MonU 
PkUompkym AnAtnt ColUge, Boston: 
Gould & Lincolii, 1859. |^. 690. Pjioe 
$1.50. 

We regard this Tolume as the best text- 
book in Psychology, for £Bgh Schools snd 
Colleges, which has yet appeared in our 
country. It is more comprehensiTe in its 
scope, more logical and exhaustiTe in its 
classification of the intellectual powers, 
and more symmetncal in the well propor* 
tioned derelopment of its Tarious parts, than 
any other similar manual. The style is 
terse and lucid ; usually simple, sometimes 
ornate, though nerer sacrificing precision 
and peirspicuity to the graces of rhetoric, 
yet abounding in such apt and felicitous 
Illustrations of abstruse points, as to be 
always intelligible and interesting to an 
ordinary reader. The author has simpli- 
fied those metaphysical questions, which 
are too often discussed in an obscure style, 
burdened with scholastic technicalities, re- 
pulsive to the dementary learner. In this 
tespoot, his woriL presents a marked con- 
trast to aaotlier *• Psydiology for Schools 
and Colleges," latdy issued, which an 
U rrevc i e u t and impatient critic has said 
'* you can read as well backwards as for- 
wards," and firom which we quote a single 
sentence as a gem of transparency. ** This 
identification of the reciprocal modification 
of both the recipient organ and that which 
has been receiTed, is prseiuly what is meant 
by sensation." It would not be strange if 
such a style should suggest to the learner 
the Scotchman's definition of metaphysics: 
** Metaphysics is when he that is listening, 
dinna ken what he that is speaking means, 
and he that is speaking dinna ken what he 
means himself." 

The book before us is no mere compila^ 
tiout and shows few traces of the scissors. 
Each topic has evidently passed through 
the crucible of the author's mind, and the 
work embodies the results of patient invea- 
tigation and eztensiTe rtaffing, and erinoei 



nice discrimination and philosophical acu- 
men, and is marked by candor and foimess 
in the presentation of the yiews and argu- 
ments which the author controTerts. The 
historical ejutome of doctrines gives a briet 
yet valuable compend of the literature df 
the subject. Hie analysis of each chapter, 
and the italicised headings of the subdivl* 
sions, will facititati* reviews and enhance 
its value to the student. The dassifieation 
of the Intellectual powers is new and ad- 
mirable for its simplidty, thot&gh we can- 
not accept his views of Consdousness, 
whidh he intimates is a state, and not a. 
foculty of the mind. This view, though 
sanctioned by some authority, in our judg- 
ment impairs the practical value of the 
book. Making this faculty always invol- 
untary and necessary in its action, he 
degrades the character of the only unerring 
witness of all oiir mental phenomena, and 
fails to indicate the true mode of questioning 
it, and the importance of heeding its testi* 
mony. Consdousness, it is true, exists in 
all men, but it is more or less distinct and 
vivid as it is controlled by the will. Says 
Cousin, **yery few know themsdves per- 
fectly, because they make use of Consdoua- 
ness without applying themsdves to perfect, 
unfold and understand it by vduntary 
effort." It is a foult of this treatise that it 
obscures this ** light of all our faculties," 
and rejects that " philosophic and artificial 
consdoixsness," which, as Coleridge says, 
*lies beneath, or, as it were, behind the 
spontaneous.' By a happy inconsistency, 
however, Prof. Haven often uses language 
which dearly recognizes consdousness as 
a distinct power, and admits its importance. 
His devdopment of the subject of the 
will, is full, able and discriminating, how- 
ever much we may differ from his conclu- 
sions. No topic in Mental Philosophy is 
of greater practical interest. Aside from 
its obvious rdation to Theology, it under- 
lies the whole sulject of Education. Cole- 
ridge used to repeat, with much emphada, 
the aphorism of NovaHs, «« that a p^ifotitly 



^ 



S16 IMerwry jf/Mm. [AnxL, 

educated chaxacter is litde else than a per- men ; or that ** if he had gone" in a certain 
fectly educated will." The training of the direction, ** he wonld haye" found certain 
will has not been duly appreciated in the things, — ^llke James's ** solitary horseman" 
work of education. It is an excellence of who *< might have been seen." And yet, 
this treatise that it gives prominence to the by a closer study than usual in this hurry- 
educational bearings of the several topics ing age, the reader will continually find 
discussed, and the true mode of developing light thrown upon some act of Milton*s 
the fiaculties of the mind. We are not sur- Ufe or genius, even in details which, at first 
prised to learn that this work is already appearance, seem entirely apart from the 
adopted in all the State Normal Schools of great poet's life. 

Massachusetts, and in some of our Colleges, Among the various incidental matteta 

and that it has had a steady and increasing so excellently presented in this work, art, 

sale. college life in the early part of the I7th 

Tia Life of Johk Milwn : yarraUd m century, a survey of English Uterature in 

eomueiion with the PoUtieal, Eoelenattioal, the time of Ben Johnson, the then state 

and Literary History of hit Time, By of the Continent, the Scotch resistance to 

Damd Mateon, M.A,, Profeawr of EngUeh Bpiscopacy, (as interesting as a romance,) 

Literature tn University Coueae, London, ^, ^ ^JZ -o ^ ai ^ ^ 

With Portraits and Spe^m^f his Hand' the preparatory scenes of the Revolution of 

mitinff ai diferent Periods. Vol. I. 1640, and the administration of government 

1608-1639. Boston: Gould & Lincoln, by Laud and Wentworth; and not the 

1859. 8vo., pp. 668. Price $2.76. je^st interesting to us is the description of 

This elegant volume is the first of three, the rise and condition of Puritanism, as to 

the second to extend to 1660, and the third which, we confess, this work has given us 

to 1674. <* It is intended," says the pre- new ideas, — as it has of Williams. Laud, 

£sce, ** to exhibit Milton's Life in its con- Wentworth and Buckingham, the men 

nections with all the more notable phenom- who were unwittingly, but Providentially, 

enaoftheperiod of British history in which foimding a new empire in America, and 

it was cast, — its state-politics, its eccled- preparing the way for constitutional liberty 

astical variations, its literature and specu- in England. To OTir readers interested in 

lative thought." Nobly does the author these matters, this book is indispensable. 

fulfil his purpose. Unwearied industry in 

searching through the dry records out of A MBMoni of the Life AKn Tiioa of 

^ , , ? . * V J ^. * • ^■^^ Isaac Backus, A. M. By Ahah 

which history is to be drawn ; patient m- ^^^^^^ ^J.Z)., Professor of Christian The- 

vestigation into the knowledge of the under- ology in Newton Theoiooieal Institution. 

workings of a period unsurpassed in inter- Boston: Oould k Lincoln, 1869. 12mo. 

est in British history, and of which the PP* **^- ^^ *^'^^' 

present time is peculiarly prolific in new Two years ago the "Backus Historical 

sources of information ; and the fullest de- Society," a Baptist ISstorical organization^ 

tail of all concurrent events which have, requested Professor Hovey to prepare a 

even in a remote degree, affected Milton, new edition of Backus' Ecclesiastical His- 

constantly appear. A flood of historical tory of New England. Preparation for 

knowledge is here presented to the public, that work suggested the desirableness of a 

As an inevitable consequence, however, previous account of the Life and Times of 

of the author's fulness, the work has in Backus himself. Hence the present vd- 

this very merit, its greatest defect. The ume. 

author, able as he is. finds it difficult to The Society was fortunate in its selec- 

group about Milton the events of which tion both of author and subject. Few 

Milton was not the center. Hence we are men are as well fitted for such a work as 

frequently losing sight of Milton as we read Professor Hovey. as the volume itself bears 

graphic episodes of public affairs or bril- evidence. Written in an agreeable style, 

Uant sketches of cotemporary statesmen or sufficiently historical, but not full of tedi- 

scholars. We are too often reminded that ous details, evidently a woriL agreeable to 

MUtan ** might have seen" certain eminent the writer, — ^it opens with a aketch of the 



xm,i 



IMtrary NoHeet. 



217 



old Cqngz^gatiopd ^itam in Connecticut 
prior to the birth, gf Backus (which took 
place Jan. 9, 1724, at Korwich, Ct., he 
being the son of Samuel and Elizabeth 
[IHcy] Backus, and a descendant of Got- 
emor Winslow) ; describes his couTersion, 
which took place in tSe time of the Great 
Awakening; delineates the causes existing, 
in the common reception into the church 
ef persons who gave no satLs&ctory eri- 
dence of couTersion, which made Backus 
l|nd many others Separatists ; shows how 
ihid Separatist churches (so called because 
not allied to the State,) themselres soon 
divided on the question of Baptism ; and 
how: Backus became, after a perples^ed and 
somewhat inconsistent process, a decided 
Baptist; narrates his settlement, difficulties 
and final success at Middleboro', Ms., 
where the Baptist church of which he died 
the pastor was gathered Jan. 16th, 1756 ; 
glTes a Tery foil and interesting account of 
the long struggle in which Backus was 
peculiarly and efficiently prominent, which 
resulted in the final separation of Church 
and State in Massachusetts ; and speaks of 
his labors as a pastor, erangelist, counsd- 
lor, and historian, until his death, which 
took place Not. 20, 1806. 

Were we to take any exception to this 
work, it would be that the author nahirally 
considers his theme as the center of the 
cirents of the time, whereas it was a mere 
•oddent* The laws making the Church a 
State charge, which really form the great 
Bulvject of the work, were not designed 
merely for Baptists, but were general in 
their character, and based on the approved 
principle that all ought to pay for the sup- 
port of religious institutions. A much 
larger number of people of no religion, 
than of Baptists, were affected by them, 
and the .adyantage which many took of 
laws favoring the latter, serves to explain 
some cases of apparent hardship, — as in the 
word <* conscientiously*' occurring in these 
laws, of which great complaint was made. 
But, for the importance of the subject, the 
candid and generous spirit of the work, and 
tho ability of the author, this book is well 
worthy the attention o^ all who desire a 
better knowledge of our ecclesiastical his- 
tory* M altogether tha mpst efliaotive pit- 

TOI-X. 



sentation, on the Baptist side^ of matten 
which all now deplore. 

A COXMBNTA&T OV TBI EpISTLB TO TBS 

RoMAirs, by Momb Stuort^ laU Prtf. ai 
Anthver. Edited and nviud by R, D, C. 
Robbms, Prof, in MiddMmry CotUge.-^ 
Fourth edition. Andover : W. F. Draper, 
1859. 12mo., pp. 614. Price $1.60. 

The foanereditians of this work are well 
known, and will be found well thumbad 
upon many a ministerial shell For ita 
learning and for its spirit, it retains and 
will long retain its hold upon the respect 
and use of Christian scholars. This edition 
is enriched by some editorial condensation 
as well as addition, and, on comparing it 
with OTir old copy, we decidedly prefer the 
shape in which it now is, to that in which 
we have been accustomed to consult it* Its 
price is reduced, by the change, whidi is 
also a good thing in a book. 



Catbarinb: By the author of ** Agnm 
the UtOe Key." Boston : J. E. Tilton & 
Co., 1869. 12mo., 192 pp. Price 76 cti. 

'* Catharine" was a dat&ghter, nineteen 
years of age, whose djring hours were filled 
with the sweetest peace by the presence of 
her Redeemer. How she died, "more than 
conqueror," — The fear of death alleviated, 
— The search for the departed, — ^The silence 
of the dead,— The Redemption of the body, 
— form the channel of thought. ** By the 
author of Agnes," is enough to tell how 
pure, how sweet, and how charming is this 
work firom the same heart. 

A fourth edition of Aowxs ahd tsb 
Little Key, (from the same publishers,) is 
noticeable not only for its outward beauty, 
but for the extract from the edition recently 
published in England, which was dedicated, 
by permistdon, to the Bishop of London, 
and to which a beautiful and touching pre- 
face was written by the author of ** Memo- 
rials of Captain Hedley Vicars." 

Tbb State op^tbs IxpBKrrEXT Dead, — 
By Ahah Hovey, D. D., Prof, of Chriet" 
ton Theoloyy in the Newton Theohoieal /n- 
etitution. Boston: Gould & Lmcoln, 
1869 : 16mo., pp. 168. Price, 50 cts. 

* An essay read before the Conference of 
Baptbt Ministers of Massachusetts, Oet. 
27, 1868, and published at^ their request; 
the drift of which is, unda a matt ooift- 



pidMnuTeplui, to icbtit the idea of Uie prinWinconneotlm'iritbTM AleSt^Tiniii 

annihilitioii of the wicked, vhich is now from the Coligregational 'S.jma BooJL 
&i4nelitly bmnght forWud. The line a Tiie page i« tha deareM »nd moK beBuEi< 

UwugH (which is ficriptuial thionghoiit,) ful we han ever leen, and the selectlbn al 

la;— the soul made otiginaUyiacoiraptibls; tunes we regard as adminble forC6iig» 

tltd iB^Aniiig of "dead" Ht ihe pnaltr of ^onal nsgiiv. -The good old mdo^ 

^i «rt emUdotwiiM* df liftpeMtttlt KiuU arc tliere. that ate ineflacaUy aasoda t ed 

tt tbb Aat^ 1iMw«U MffilydcMk ind tha with out moDories of funily wotalup U 

jM^tWiit', Ihelt MiibltnteM afld liMCftd childhood, ando^Oote sodalrdigiouaMN 

tiiiilltlon U ttHf SnU NMet BIbnbal ob^ "c» in xhich we first took an intctett 

jmMa cdtaMdend. etpuimj tUat At Oi They appal to the gmenl heart, and in 

taUflldlatitm Mheite ; and the ohJCMnU «t think thi^ book, whicli cont^na than, idlt 

NHsbn. The main TClBe of IhU #oik iN ta he found B&u»t)ly adapted to Oe mil 

mklM UtiUjiU ot Scriptmc pkiMgca, ta of worship. 

4lMi an «t«dleat iiidtx Mtea. . „ ^ . „ _ . _ ^, 

^ A HUtor^ Df 6» Old Soim FxjcMk 

iSij Sew CosroMOiTioiTAL Htkw AMD MmTtwo.- ttdw read*, U ftdl of fte am 

S',SS.^.^:S'p"?,iS «»>T ..««.., Wa».«. -«»«-. 

»Co. 1868, luge Bto. pp. 21S. knawledgt (tf it, we cOmmena It in adraae*. 

A copy of tM* iA« eahdidate for the While the Works of the late Dr. Taylw 

ftTOr of the churches, is handed us Just as aie pnblishisc, a Memoir of Si. BenMit 

Kiii riieet is goiitg to pt«s*, when w« can Tyler is also in press, with snch tdeotiona 

l^iit space only fbr a very biitf notice. from his sermons and lectures as will pre- 

It e6ntaini44 Long metet tttnes; ED in tent fail doctrinal eyetem. The two caiit(i>- 

04aunonmet«r; 91 iii ShWtmetet.andM versialiats will thus again appear brfbie 

In other meaanrea— 171 in all. TheM lue the public— together. 



CongrejjationsI ^etrolojgis. 

, Hn. HASTHA iU&Abtftn SEa. bleMetid. 8hfe wMRSned til her«!dU«t. 

CblAVE, wife of fter. JamnC. ^eagraTe, trsrm ih Aer atlKcKnUirta, MMdfiItt ik Ub 

and daughter of the Inte John ClAA df frteiiaddpi, fevghtbg tttw«M ttoOB Oft 

Providence, died at Scotland, BnSgetriiitt, hM ilijdred Ittr ; jiUrs tn idl her c onviN* 

Hs., Stpt. 17, 18$B.- Bbt wM hoiti at tim, Ud watohftil a*«Mier ftwafasaMMud 

Ptrraondi, Vt., Msrch IS, 1S30. eoftda«. 

She was h conscienlioni, trntfa lovi«g Skilled and taneAil to her doiMMiD aa> 

'ahd obedient cUId. RenetVed by the rangemcnts, she made home attramin aad 

^raes of Etod, she became self-diitmit- happy. She loved the empLeymenti <tf the 

fnl, and humble. Yetshe waa diatingtUBh- household, and in the intimtioiea of tha 

ed through life for her oheerf ul temper and lamily circle, in her relations as a daughtar, 

interest in the welfoie of others. Arrived a sinter and a wife, her virtues ahone with 

at womanhood, she was found to possess peculiar lustre. 

a delicate constitution, but an energy of Aa a pastor's eompanion she never for- 

character not often surpassed i her mind got the welfare of his people, and that 

WS4 active, vigorous and admirably bal- claim upon her legari] and lAectioh. tt 

anced ; her judgment clear and sound, was her constant desire tobene&t and eern 

She exhibited a rare knowledge of human tbetn. 'While shrinking from no duty 

nature and a keen insight into the motives which she owM diKcfly to tli«m, die vrtt 

and qualities ot others. &*r delicate ap- abiight ttHeir good, by heartit} BympatU- 

pieci^tion of 'otheH' f^hts, m Well A* lote stng with her hit^Umd in all ^flbrta In 

ffir ItiAi KApptite^ ini^ 4i^ 'a -UOc cotn- flikr'Uafiat 'ttH eoBpAMtatt Mfti BUa h 

-^(%,'ll^tK(KM «fatt(Utt^,«i'teKMi- «Vtfy 'ilidMl <<Me««tr. ktft ^bbMr^^lM 




.«.' 




^19 



<^^ of ip ambMfkdpr of Qji^iifit, and the 
fat that ftw dattes are more Responsible 
thi^i those of her who Is appointed to sym- 
l^thiae and coimsd with him in his high 
celling. 

l>uHng the last months of her life, her 
mterest in the spiritual good of the people 
grew intense. Man/ precious messages of 
love and entreaty were sent from her sick 
room. 8he desired that her protracted and 
dUtressIng illness should in no way inter* 
toe widi her husband's labors. She was 
aecustomed to say: **Itemember your 
tniit; preach Christ; preach fSidthMly. 
Do not let me pieTcnt your doing all in 
your power for the good of your flock." 

During her years of suffering her mind 
was sometimes oppressed with a sense of 
\ia own sinfiilnesB, apd she seemed occa- 
sionally to lose her grasp upon the Al- 
mighty ann* 9he dealt unspaxingly with 
her own heart, and thus attained to a high 
degree of self-knowledge. Though habit- 
iia^y dieerf^ and happy» die was never 
satisfied with hersdf . 3ut during the last 
weeks of her nckness, all other feelings 
were apparently orershadowed by peace 
a^ boly joy. She frequently exclaimed, 
'* Christ is very precious ; J. can trust Him 
wboUy!" Sdf-abaslng and self-renounc- 
ing, she had often extracted comfort from 
the blessings which others enjoyed, and had 
found happiness in comforthig those who, 
)ike her, needed the oil of consolation and 
the peace of God. As death drew near 
^ felt more and more the surpassing rich- 
ness of the Bedeemer^s love. But the 
sIsfM^ scene — tha$ was the most memora- 
ble of aU. She gazed up steadfasdy into 
heaTcn. Her fece shone as it had been die 
Csee of an angel. She said, •' I see i^y 
Saviour, I shall soon be with him ! Dp 
not mourn, mother, I see fether ! " Soo^ 
she feU asleep in Jesus, without a gasp or 
groan. 

Dea. HOSES "WEBSTEIt. This lament- 
ed servant of Christ departed to his rest 
Sept. 20th, 1858. He was bom in Haver- 
hill, "West Parish, Ms., Jan. ^9, 1782, on 
the spot where his days were spent — a 
place endeared to him by the piety and toil 
of his ancestors, l^s parents were mem- 
bers of the same Church to which he be- 
longed, and bo|ih of )iis grandfitt^iers were 



It will be seen that the active period of 
Dea. Webster^s Hfe occurred in days when 
religious intolerance, in this part of tlie 
country, was bearing some of its bitterest 
fruits. The religious Society, with whose 
views and feelings he sympaUiized, did not 
escape a ftdl share of the evils which many 
of the Orthodox churches in New England 
then endured. At the time he made a pub* 
lie profession of religion, March 1823, tha 
Congregational Church, in HaverhiU West 
Parish, had not had a settled Pastor for 
nearly a quarter of a century. They had 
been compelled to share their house of 
worship with three other denominations^ 
some of whom were not of evangelical sen- 
timents. Still there was always a little 
band who preserved their integrity. Their 
Church covenant and articles of feidi re- 
mained the same as Milien the Church was 
organized, in 1735. On the days in which 
the pulpit was occupied by one who did 
not, as they thought, preach a pure Gospelt 
they quietly withdrew. About the period* 
however, to which we allude, (1823,) they 
were fevored with the more stated services 
of a Godly minister. IHs labors among 
them were greatly blessed. The Church 
increased in numbers and influence, so thi^t 
in 1826, a man of their choice was, as th^ 
hoped, permanently settled over them i^ 
the ministry. But these indications of in- 
creasing prosperity were only made the oc- 
casion for arousing anew the elements of 
opposition. A writer in the Bagton lU^ 
^rder, a little subsequent to this period, in 
describing the events which then occurred, 
says : <* By the help of some like them- 
selves from other parishes, the enemies of 
the Cross gained the ascendency, and voted 
to dismiss the Orthodox minister. Soon 
they went ferther, and voted to close the 
doors of the sanctuary against him. The 
following spring, the Church got into their 
new house of worship, and their opposexs 
set up worship in the old house. But here 
their troubles did not end. They were 
taxed, with the rest of the parish, for the 
space of two years, for the support of Uni- 
versalist preaching in the old house, thdr 
proportion of the tax being quite two-thirds 
of the whole." Amid these trials their 
minister left. But in the following au- 
tumn, <* they gave a call to an evangelical 
mim to become their Pastor, and proposed 
to t|w parish to fet|le ^ ip, *«W JWBfV 



220 CongregatumcH Neerctdgy. [Apbi^ 

house, and support him themselTes without the eause of Chxist, at the time xefened to. 

any parish tax, leaving the parish to settle he privately became responsible for pay- 

ths candidate of their choice in the old ments, from which his estate had not be- 

house, if they pleased, diriding the income come entirely disencumbered at the time of 

of the parsonage equally between the two his death. But neither he nor suryiring 

parties. But in this effort the Church and friends regretted what he had done, 

their friends were borne down and defeated His last days were those befitting such a 

by the suffrages of men not resident in the life. His end was peace. When disease 

parish, and called in from three different came upon him, although nothing of a fatal 

counties in the State, and from places nature could be discovered by others, yet 

twenty or thirty miles distant, to vote away he himself was impressed with the thought 

the rights of the Church. After this, a few that the summons was about to come to 

of the oppressed party refiised to pay their him. He calmly contemplated the event, 

parish tax on the ground of its palpable il- and did not wish it otherwise. The caU 

legality and gross injustice, but the consc- found him ready. 

quence was, that warrants were issued 

against them, and one of them was arrested Dea. DAVID OOOD ALE was bom in 
and carried to prison." Such fiacts are not lilarlborough, Ms., April Ist, 1791. He 
adverted to for the purpose of reviving in was the son of Dea. Abner Ooodale of that 
the mind of any one the remembrance of place, and the brother of Mrs. Thurston, 
unpleasant feuds ; but they need to be missionary to the Sandwich Islands ; and 
known, in order that the character and life a near relative of Rev. William Goodale, 
of one who bore a manly and Christian missionary at Constantinople. He was 
part in bringing them to a successful issue, educated in the district school, and repaid 
may be duly appreciated. Those now en- the debt by teaching twenty-nine winters 
tering upon active life, should know the in succession, commencing when only 
** price" that has been paid, in labors and nineteen years of age. In 1816 he united 
sacrifices, for the religious freedom which with the first Congregational Church in M. 
they enjoy. Dea. Webster, on looking up- He attributed his religious impressions to 
on past events, a specimen of which has the faithful instruction of his parents ; to 
been given in this brief account, could early habits of reading the Scriptiires ; and 
truly say of them, ** a part of which I was." especially to the lessons which he regularly 
He was eminently fitted for the times and learned from the Assembly's Catechism, 
the circumstances in which he lived. God In May, 1818, he established, with the 
raised him up for this end. He had a tall, assistance of six others, the first Sabbath 
commanding form ; features noble and School in his native place, and was an 
frank; a frame and movements in every way active member of it, as Superintendent or 
indicative ofphysical strength and courage; teacher, to the day of his death. In 1819 
while over his whole coimtcnance there was he was married to Miss Melliscent Warren, 
spread the settled expression of \mfailing of Marlborough, sister of Rev. Edward 
good will, Warren, missionary to Ceylon. They had 
A prominent trait in him was his firm six children, four of whom survive. In 
adherence to religious principle. Ques- Oct. 1823, at the death of his father, he was 
tions involving moral obligation were set- chosen to succeed him in the office of 
tied by him with great deliberation and deacon, and at the time of his death was 
prayer ; and then he remained unmoved, the senior deacon of the Church. 
Another chara9teristic of Dea. Webster, Perhaps no features of his character were 
and one for which he should be held in more marked than his decision, energy, 
grateful remembrance, was his readiness to and sagacity. His mind was clear, vigor- 
make sacrifices of time and property for the ous, resolved, and possessed the main qual- 
cause of truth. With the talent and op- ities which fit men to be leaders. And 
portunities which he possessed for acquiring yet there was blended with these qualities 
wealth, he might have died a rich man. so much of prudence and forecast — so 
But he chose rather to live on a bare com- many conservative elements — as to make 
petence, and devote the rest to God. In him singularly well balanced and judicious, 
meeting what he deemed to be his duty to Between the years 1832-— 36, the Church 



1859.] CmgregtOimal Neerohgp, 221 

passed through one of its most trying pe- the South Church in Andorer, and of 

liods, snd it is not too much to saj, that Kadam Abigail (Richards) French, his 

God raised him up to meet that crisis, wife: was bom at Andover, Kay 29th, 

The Church and Society were both divided. 1776 ; married to Rev. Mr. Steams, pastor 

The meeting-house, now greatly dilapi- of the Church in Bedford, May 9, 1797 ; 

dated and unsuiubly placed for rdigious and having lived happily with the husband 

service, was legally held by one branch of of her youth till he was removed by death, 

the Society. But mainly by his personal December 26th, 1834, she siirvived him 

exertions the divi^ns were healed, a new nearly 24 years, and has now gone to j(^ 

house of worship was erected, and the him, it is confidently believed, in a better 

church was restored to a state of harmony world, 

and prosperity. Madam Steams was a lady distinguished 

Dea. Goodale had a clear understanding for her natural good sense and discernment ; 
of the ftmdamental doctrines of the gospel, fond of reading and of extensive informa- 
aad received them with an intellig3nt and tion upon all interesting and useful sub- 
unwavering feith. He was a strong Con- jects ; so that both at home and abroad, 
gregationalist ; and both in the affairs of by her intelligent conversation and social 
the Church, and the arrangements of the disposition, she gained numerous acquaint- 
fitmily, he delighted in the customs of his ances who took pleasure in her company, 
Puritan ancestors. He loved the Church and many warm friends. 
of Christ, and thought no sacrifice too great Favored with the counsels, example and 
to secure her interests and prosperity. He prayers of pious parents, Mrs. Steams be- 
was one of the earliest and strongest of came early impressed with a sense of the 
practical temperance men and friends of importance of religion and virtue ; and giv- 
the slave, and openly advocated these ing evidence of a change of heart by the 
causes in the face of the strongest opposi- influence of the Divine Spirit, she was re- 
tion. He was repeatedly called to fill the cdvcd into the Church over which her 
highest offices in the town, and, for a quar- father presided, at the early age of thirteen 
ter of a century, exerted a leading influ- years. Through the whole of her sub- 
cnce on its affairs. sequent life, wherever she dwelt, and under 

His dying testimony was, that he felt no every variety of circumstances, she uni- 

misgivings in regard to his religious hopes; formly adomed the doctrine of God her 

that he trusted in the same Saviour and Saviour by a pious and Christian life, 

found him still precious, whom for more Being educated in the belief of the As- 

than forty years he had acknowledged be- sembly's Catechism, once almost univcr- 

fore men. He died, universally lamented, sally used in the families and in the schools 

Oct. 17, 1858, aged 67 years. of New England, she ever adhered with 

firmness to the doctrines taught in that 

Died at Bedford, Ms.. Dec. 2l8t, 1858, little Manual. She had informed herself 

Madam ABIGAIL STEARNS, widow well respecting them. She believed them 

of the late Rev. Samuel Steams of that upon examination to accord with the ^- 

place, in the 83d year of her age. vine standard, the word of God. And 

The death of this excellent lady is re- hence she cordially received them ; was 
garded and felt as a great loss not only by found abundantly able to defend them, 
her numerous descendants, and a large when attacked in her presence ; and made 
circle of relatives and friends, but by the it her great concern to manifest the reality 
inhabitants of Bedford generally, among of her faith in them by a life consistent 
whom she had resided above sixty years, with the spirit and precepts they enjoined, 
and who at her decease manifested their Yet her religion was without parade, 
esteem and attachment by their sympathy cant or affectation ; but exhibited with all 
with her children, by many acts of kind- simplicity, and with all humility in her 
ness to them in their trouble, and by a habitual care to walk in all the command- 
numerous attendance at the services of her ments and ordinances of the Lord blame- 
ftmeral. less. 

She was the eldest daughter of Rev. Madam Steams was a very devout vro- 

Jonathan French, for many years pastor of man. She cherished habitually a spirit of 



m 



Ck^^gqtmffl Neet!^^, 



[Amu 



• f 



prayer; delighted to exercUe this fpizit 
upon all fit occarions of calling upon God; 
loTed especially to wait upon him in the 
morning and evening devotions of the Uxa- 
ily; and since the death of her beloved 
husband, was wont to lead in these exer- 
cises herself, when no male professor of 
religion was present; and this habit she 
was very unwilling on any account at the 
stated hour to omit ; but continued with 
great regularity and exemplary constancy 
to practice it, till within five or six days 
of her death. 

She was a lady that paid a conscientious 
practical regard to the rights and feelings 
of her fellow creatures. Hence, though 
possessed of a keen discernment in esti- 
mating the moral worth of others, she 
was not fond of dwelling upon the faults 
of any in conversation; nor would she 
second an attack made in her presence upon 
the character of one that was absent. 

She was a very benevolent woman ; one 
that loved always, and by all means, to be 
doing good. This was a trait in her char- 
acter that was exhibited by her in her early 
days, as aged friends of her fether have 
mentioned as observed by them, when vis- 
iting at his house in her youth. But it 
showed itself still more distinctly and effi- 
ciently in her advanced life. For many 
years she was the President of a Benevo- 
lent Society in Bedford; and did much by 
her zeal in the cause to animate her asso- 
ciates, and to excite them to active exer- 
tipn. Many a scheme did she set on foot, 
in her quiet way, for helping the poor, for 
imparting knowledge to the ignorant, and 
reclaiming the vicious and degraded. In 
particular, it is remembered, that at a cer- 
tain time she received into her house a 
woman, that by her misconduct had be- 
come wretchedly poor, and almost desper- 
ate ; and there by kindness, by friendly 
advice and encouragement, by the concern 
for her welfare that she manifested herself, 
and by the interest she awakened in others 
on her behalf, she succeeded, with the di- 
vine blestdng, in her efforts to effect a 
reformation in her character ; and had the 
satisfection of seeing her respected and 
prosperous in the world, and eventiuJly 
brought down upon herself the blessing of 
one, who, but for her, had been ready to 
perish. 

In the discharge of the relative duties of 



life, Mrs. Steams waa eminent for her wis- 
dom and faithfulness. Her dear husband 
she greatly encouraged in his profesional 
studies and toils by her kindness and advice. 
She was his main stay in the severe trials 
which befel him in his latter years ; and by 
her tender sympathy, and by her willing, 
unwearied, watchful attentions, soothed 
and comforted him in the pains and weak- 
ness of his declining days. She presided 
over her household with great dignity; 
ordered all its affairs with discretion, and 
kept her children in willing subjection. 
At one time there were in her family four 
little boarders besides as many of her own 
children, the whole eight being all under 
•even years of age. And yet she was but 
seldom, if ever, constrained to use force for 
securing their obedience to her will. They 
all loved and reverenced her; and those 
boarders who survive, still call her math«r^ 
and remember her with an affection scarcely 
less than that of her own children. 

Of thirteen children, whom Qod gave 
this venerable matron, two died in infancy. 
For the rest she always cherished the warm- 
est affection, and the liveliest concern for 
their present and friture welfare. She 
strenuously exerted herself, though with 
straitened means, to obtain for them the 
advantages of a good education, and was 
ever ready to make any sacrifice to secure 
it for them. Above all, she was solicitous 
they should become wise unto eternal life. 
For this end, she offiered her fervent prayers 
unto Qod. For this, she was accustomed 
to employ the whole influence of her exam- 
ple, authority and instructions. She stu- 
diously cautioned them against all that is 
low and vulgar in action and manners, as 
tending to what is worse. She warned 
them against the fascinating influence of 
jovial, but thoughtless or imprincipled com- 
panions. She put them on their guard 
against the attempts of the scoffing and 
profane, and sometimes furnished them 
with answers to meet their insinuations. 
In a word, she earnestly exhorted and en- 
couraged them all to choose the paths of 
religious wisdom, to make the Saviour's 
precepts their guide ; the Saviour's service 
their choice ; the Saviour's promises and 
grace their dependence and hope. She 
virtually enjoined upon them all, what she 
did upon one of her sons on flrst quitting 
home to go to the Academy, •' Try," said 



urn) 






^m 



4&e, '< to get on vdl in yonr siudies, and 
fh yourself for worldlj prosperity; but 
ltemeniber« seek fir^ the kingdom of God, 
and his righteousness, and all these things 
shall be added unto you." 

Of her eleven children who attained to 
mature age, Abigail French, the eldest, 
(ivilie of Mr. Jonas Monroe of Bedford) U 
mot; Charlotte Esther, (wi&ofRer. Jona- 
than Leavitt. D.D., of Proyidence, K. I.) 
itntd; and Samuel Horatio, (the beloved, 
hopeful pastor of the Old South Church, 
Boston,) was early taken away from his 
Ihmily, his people, and the world, by dis- 
ease and death. Eight yet remain, viz : 
1. Sarah Caroline, (wife of Rev. Forrest Jef- 
ferds, Missionary in Boston.) 2. William 
Augustus, D.D. (the Kev. President of Am- 
herst College.) 3. Maria Holyoke. 4. Jona- 
than French, (D J)., pastorof the 1st Presby- 
terian Church, Newark, N.J.) 5. Elizabeth 
^S^lliams, (wife of Dea. Charles James, of 
East Boston.) 6. Josiah Atherton, (Prin- 
cipal of the Lawrence School, Boston.) 7. 
Anne Catharine. 8. Eben Sperry, (Prin- 
dpal of the Young Ladies' Academy at Al- 
bany.) All these, or the major part of 
them, their beloved mother had the rare 
^tification of seeing assembled at her 
house, with many of her grand-children, 
and four descendants of the third genera- 
tion, on the day when she completed her 
dghtieth year, to spend the day with her 
in mutual congratulations', and in ex- 
presdons of filial piety on their part, and 
of motherly affection on hers. But not 
ioEiany months after this Occadon, so mem- 
orable to them, her naturally firm constitu- 
tion began to give way. Her health from 
this time slowly and almost imperceptibly, 
t>ut steadily declined. And at the last 
Annual Thanksgiving, (a day she had been 
always accustomed hitherto greatly to en- 
joy in company with her children gathered 
around her) her diseafie had made such 
progress that she could take but little 
comfort in their raciety, and was obliged 
to retire at times to her bed. She now be- 
came convinced that her end was near, and 
repeatedly intimated this her conviction to 
her children then with her ; but finding the 
subject gave them pain, she dropped it, 
and turned the conversation to something 
Idse. 

. '^or several years. Madam Steiarns had 
kikiU'diilh-a MTb}^ ^ 1u»> da&y e6ii:m* 



iition, and Wotdd tlpeA of it with compos 
iure as of going a journey home. But in 
consequence of the acute distress which 
sdzed upon her quickly after Thanksgit^ 
ing day just mentioned, she was unable to 
Converse but litde. She would listen with 
pleasure, however, to the reading of appro- 
priate portions of the Psalms ; mention with 
evident concern certain relatives, whom die 
feared might in particular drcumstancea 
suffer; and often in the stOlneas of lHaub 
night, when she appeared to suppose that 
no created eye was upon her, no human 
ear was listening, she seemed to be enga- 
ged in earnest prayer. The intense pain to 
which she was subject at the dose of life, 
she endured with Christian fortitude and 
patience. But just at the last, her distresa 
for breath subsided ; and at length, in the 
perfect possession of her reason and senses, 
calm, and apparently happy, she gradually 
fell asleep ; leaving no doubt on the mind 
of any that knew her, that she sleeps in 
Jesus, and that her rest in him is glorioua. 



Rev. ISAAC BRAMAN, who died at hit 
residence in Georgetown, on the last Sab- 
bath of 1858, (December 26,) at the ad- 
vanced age of 88, was bom in Norton, 
July 5, 1770 ; was graduated at Harvard 
College with high honors, in the dass of 
1794, which, in his death, becomes extinct. 
His theological studies were pursued under 
the guidance of Rev. Jason Haven, of Ded- 
ham, and Rev. Pitt Clark, of Norton. On 
the 7th of June, 1787, he was ordained 
over the Congregational Church in George- 
town, at that time the second parish in 
Rowley. There had been a vacancy nine 
years, since the death of his predecessor, 
Rev. James Chandler, and he was the 
sixty-fourth candidate. He continued pas- 
tor of this Church through the remainder of 
his life — a period of more than sixty-one 
years, discharging the duties of his proflss- 
sion with great fidelity and acceptance, till 
the infirmities of age compelled him to 
seek, and his people to grant, a colleague 
pastor. He possessed great originality, 
and his sermons evinced deep Uiought. 
His keen wit, blending with his kindness of 
heart and tuiaffected piety, made his com- 
pany and conversation always agreeable. 

He married, August, 1797, Hannah 
Palmer, yoimgest daughter of Rev. Josejph 
^Idma, drMrtoHtlLC. l7t7),1iorii7ane 



224 (hngngaimdl Nwnitagff^ [Ann^ 

12, 1778. They had fiye children, ylz: — 1. disaster not only swept away the whole 

Haniet, hom July 17, 1798, married Rev. property of the flrm, but threw the heayy 

John Boardman (D. C. 1817), minister burden of debt, amounting to sereral thou- 

in Douglas, Ms. 2. Milton Palmer, bom sands of doUars, upon Nathaniel, the sur- 

August 6, 1799, (H. C. 1819), now minis- viving partner. Though the misfortune 

ter of the First Church in Danvcrs, Ms. came through no fault or miscalctdation of 

8. James Chandler, bom September 29, his own, he felt sacredly bound to dis- 

1801, died at sea (on his passage from Cal- charge the whole amount of pecuniary 

eutta for Salem, serenty-five days out,) obligation thus thrown upon him, what- 

Deoember 5, 1820. 4. Adeline, bom July ever privation it might cost himself and 

10, 1805, died September 10, 1830. 5. family. To this one object he appropii- 

Isaac Gordon, bom March 12, 1813, is a ated all his £sther left him, which might* 

physician in Brighton, Ms. Mr. Bra- according to the conditions of the bequest, 

man's wife died August 14th, 1835, aged have been retained in his family ; and also 

62 ; and he married for his second wife, in as much as a quarter part of his salary 

1837, Sarah Balch, daughter of John through his whole ministry. He ulti- 

Balch, Esq., of Newburyport. She sur- mately paid the whole with the exception 

'fives him. of a few himdreds of dollars voluntarily 

relinquished by near relatives, and a small 

Rev. NATHANIEL WELLS was the part of the interest which was not exacted, 

eldest son of Hon. Nathaniel Wells, of but he was not relieved from embarxass- 

Wells, Me., for many years Chief Justice ment until late in life. 
of the Court of Common Pleas in York The blight which f^U upon his outward 

County. He was bom in July, 1774. The prospects exerted a happy influence upon 

influence of a pious mother gave a serious his character. It lifted him above the 

turn to his mind at the first dawning of world, led him to steadfiEist trust in Ood, 

intelligence. At the age of seventeen, just and made the hopes of the gospel more 

before entering College, he made a public precious. 

profSrasion of religion, having, a few months At the suggestion of Dr. Hemmenway, 

previous, indulged a hope that he had his father-in-law, and some neighboring 

passed from death unto life. ministers, he again turned his attention to 

He graduated at Dartmouth College in the ministry, to which his heart had always 

1795, taking a high stand as a scholar, inclined. He studied Theology imder ^ 

Dr. Snell, of North Brookfield, Ms., direction of his £Either-in-law, and in 181 1 

Bev. Josiah Prentice, late of Northwood, was licensed to preach by the Association of 

and the late Samuel Worcester, D. D., Ministers in York County, Me. In July, 

were class-mates. His own inclination 1812, after having preached as a candidate 

would have led him to enter the ministry four months, he was ordained over the 

as soon as practicable after leaving Col- Congregational Church and Society in 

lege ; it was only in compliance i%Hth the Deerfield, N. H. Here he remained till he 

earnest wishes of his father that he decided closed his mortal life, Dec. 31, 1858, aged 

to remain at home and form a partnership 84 years and 4 months, 
with his only brother in mercantile busi- His pastorate was a happy one. He had 

ness and navigation. About this time he not great popular power as a preacher, but 

married Eunice, daughter of Rev. Moses had other qualities which greatly endeared 

Hemmenway, D. D., for more than fifty him to the people of his charge. In the 

years pastor of the First Congregational pulpit and in all his private intercourse 

Church in Wells, and who took a promi- there was an air of sincerity and good will 

nent part in the Hopkinsian controversy of to all, which never failed to inspire confl- 

those days. dence. He made no pretension to elegance 

The younger brother referred to, sailed either in diction or delivery. He thought 

as master of a merchant vessel in the West the plainest statements of the tmth the 

India trade, which, i^ith her cargo, was best. But though he took no pains to 

the property of the two partners. In re- cultivate the graces of style and elocution, 

turning, after a prosperous voyage, the there was an earnestness and clearness and 

vessel and all the crew were lost. Thii strong conviction of the truths he uttered 



rssoi) 



'\MHjp^€^d(hdiw J^itfbibjffifn 



m 



wMeh often miftde his jyreaeliixig ieffisctiTe 
tttK>n te consdetace. tSiA character was 
perfectly transpatent ; but whfle be was 
unusually frank be was retearltabl j pru- 
dent. He was naturally of a basty spirit 
and was sometimes betrayed into a mo- 
mentary flush of anger, but it passed away 
in an ihstant. £&8 people appreciated his 
gobd qualities and Vere indulgent to his 
inllxmities. ^ felt a deep solicitude for 
the sidration of tile people committed to 
bis chaii^, and was accustomed in his pri- 
iraie derotiohs to make each indiyidtial in 
Ids parish a special subject of prayer. He 
ecercised great charity in Judging of oth- 
ers ; was Inclihed to think no eTil of men, 
to hope all things, and believe all things. 
He fbrmed a low estimate of his own 
abUlides as a preacher and would in mo- 
ments of depresAon often express a doubt 
n^tether he ought to preach. He was a 
diligent student of the Bible all through 
life, reading the Greek Testament with as 
great fedlity as the English translation. 
He made the Bible his sole guide in Theo- 
logical study, usually making his doctrinsl 
statements in Scriptural phraseology. 

He was dismissed in Sept. 1851, the 
Society giving him the parsonage where 
he lived, worth about $1,000, as a token of 
their regard. After his dismission he was 
a good parishioner, giving his hearty co5p- 
eration to tlie acting pastor, and always 
striving for the things which make for 
peace. DuiuBglns last illness, which con- 
t&iueil ibout four %edts, be was peaceful 
and ha^^ with the exeeption of a few 
intervab of severe physical suffering. — 
llioQgh he expressed a deep sense of un- 
worthiness, his hope of heaven was firm. 

In his intercourse with his family, he 
was remarkably genial and affectionate; 
this made his home a happy one to all its 
members. He had twelve children. Of 
these, four died young; eight are still 
living, viz : Maria, wife of T. M. White, 
Bsq., of Deerfield, bom July, 1798 ; David 
Wells, M. D., a physician of Lowell, Ms., 
bom Nov. 1803 ; Nathaniel Wells, Esq., 
of Somersworth, N. H., bom Feb. 28, 
1^05 ; Rev. Theodore Wdls, of Banington, 
N. H., bom Feb. 21, 1807 ; Rev. Moses H. 
Wells, of Blnsdjede, N. H., bom Aug. 27, 
1814 ; Elisabeth J., bom Oct. 24, 1816, 
wife of John T. Humphrey, of Winchester, 
K. H. ; Abby T. "^T^F^ k tMMbter fn Piick. 



^ Institute, Brooklyn, If. T., bom Juxie, 
1819 ; and Alexander Wells, of t)eerfldd, 
bom in the summer of 1821. 



Rev. CHARLES B. BALL was a na- 
tive of Lee, Ms., where he was bom in the 
year 1826. He graduated at Williams Col- 
lege in 1846, and owing to the feilure of his 
hedth in his eariy studies, entered upon 
the pracdce of law, which he continued fbr 
a few years in Springfield, Ms. His heal& 
becondng, in a good degree, r es to red, he 
studied theology at East Windsor ^B, Ct., 
and was ordained at Wilton, Ct., Jan. ^0, 
18*58. An interesting i^evival of religion 
commenced immediately after his settlement, 
and there have been additions to the Church 
at every communion season but one since 
that time. The people were not unanimous 
for his setdement when it took place, but 
had become universally attached to him, 
when the Great Shepherd of Israel saw 
it best to call him away, after lending him 
to them so short a time. He had officiated 
as pastor just one year, when he was seized 
with the difficulty (a carbuncle boil) which 
terminated his life in less that one short 
week. He died in 'V\llton, Jan. 27. Death 
came suddenly, but found him ready, 
armed, and on the watch-tower. He had 
no will of his own, though his yoiing wife 
with an only child of a week old, and an 
aged fether and mother, and an only sister, 
pressed heavily upon him. ffis suffering 
were intense, ' and be bore thein like a 
Christian. His end was peace. Rev. W. 
B. Weed of Norwalk preached the aennoin 
at his ftmeral ; the remains were r e mo ved 
to Lee, Ms., for interment. 



Dea. JOSIAH BOBBINS, a native and 
resident of Plymouth, Ms., died at Portland, 
Me., Feb. 6th, 1859, aged 72. 

He had been, by the grace of Qo d am^f 
by the grace of Ood, he would say — a con- 
sistent follower of Jesus for thirty years. 
He united with the Congregational Church 
in Plymouth Center (Third) in 1880, and 
was unanimously dected Deacon in 1881. 
He loved the feith of the fethers, and la- 
bored feithftilly to maintain and spread tfie 
principles of Puritanism. He felt that it 
was for *<the feith once delivered to the 
saints " that he was laboring— not for party 
strife. He had seen the heart of man too 
ekaiiy to be led astray by the comtpdoiiB 



VOL.!. 



29 



226 



(kfngr^gtdimA N^cr^hg^. 



[Afbs^ 



that had crept in and driTen out the Paul- 
ine faith from the old Church of the Pil- 
grims, at Plymouth. His energies and hit 
wealth he was glad to give to the cause ol 
his Redeemer. His great regret was thai 
•• his own miserable heart," as he was wont 
to express it, **kept him so fax from Jesus, 
hb Lord.*' Yet « comparing ourselves 
among ourselTcs," he waa one of the mo»t 
eonsistent. Hia waa a simple faith, and a 
loTing heart. We miss him here, but a 
new harp is strung aboTe, and a new voice 
b added to the holy throng that there sing 
«« the song of Moses and the Lamb.'* 



Rer. CYRUS MANN, died at Stoughton, 
Feb. 9, aged 73. Mr. Mann was bom in Or- 
fbrd. N. H., April 3d, 1785. ms parents, 
John and Lydia Mann, were the first per- 
manent settlers of that beautiful town, and 
removed to that place from Hebron, Ct., at 
■o early a period that they were obliged to 
find a path, above Charlcstown, N. H., by 
the aid of marked trees, and to furnish the 
bread for their table from meal which was 
ground at a mill sixty miles down the 
Connecticut river. Twelve sons and three 
daughters at length gladdened this forest 
home and were educated in the strict New 
England faith. Of these, Cyrus was the 
eleventh child. He entered Dartmouth 
College in 1802, and graduated in 1806. 
Immediately upon his graduation he be- 
came Principal of Gilmanton Academy and 
continued in that position during two 
years. He then became teacher of a High 
School in Troy, N. Y., and at the same 
time commenced the reading of Law. At 
the end of a year, so industrious had been 
his occupation of time that he was offered 
a partnership with the lawyer in whose 
office he had entered his name, who was 
doing a large and lucrative business. But 
Providence had other designs for him. In 
1809 he was appointed Tutor in Dartmouth 
College, an office which he accepted and 
held during five yearn. Here he determined 
to devote his life to the Gospel ministry, 
and while acting as Tutor pursued the 
study of Theology under the guidance of 
Profe^or Shurtleff. He also at this time 
prepared a treatise upon Trigonometry, 
which was for several years used as class- 
book in the College. Soon after leaving 
Hanover he was settled in the ministry 
at Westminster, Ms., where he remained 



aiapaator for twenty-cix yean. During 
this pastorate seven distinct periods (tf 
the revival of religious interest occuzied, 
in which many souls turned to Christ. 

While here he did his part in the memo- 
rable scenes which attended the separation 
of the Unitarian and Orthodox dements ol 
the old Congregationalists. After leaving 
Westminster be was never installed as a 
pastor, but preached at the Robinson 
Church in Plymouth, about three years, 
and at the Congregational Church in North 
Falmouth about four years, in both which 
places deep rdigious feeling accompanied 
his fiuthfiil, earnest, pungent preaching, 
and numbers were added to the church. 
At Westminster, by his personal efforts, an 
Academy was founded and sustained which 
was of great service to the cause of educa- 
tion in that region, and which still exists 
as a monument to his name. He was one 
of the earliest and most active laborers in 
the Temperance Refonnation, and no man 
in the north part of Worcester County did 
better service in that noble work of phil- 
anthropy. Of feeble health from eariy 
youth, he struggled on with a perseverance, 
industry and application which were wor- 
thy of the highest honor, and which never 
forsook him, even in the latest years of his 
life, during the last nine of which, disease 
of the throat and lungs had so enfeebled 
him that few men would have considered 
themsdves capable of any labor. His 
memory dwells in the evangelical churches 
of Worcester County, (several of which he 
helped to found,) as one who preached the 
Gospel with plainness, power and love, 
not fearing man, but only God. At the 
ripe age of nearly seventy-four years, with 
confidence unabated in the doctrines which 
he had taught to others, and consoled most 
sweetly by the comfort of the cross to 
which he had so long pointed others, lie 
passed peacefiilly to his reward. 



Dea. SAMUEL TRIPP wsa bom cm 
the 14th of Sept.. 1777, and died at his 
residence in Fairhaven, Ms., on the 15th of 
February 1859, in the 82d year of his age. 
It is rare that death takes from any com- 
munity one to be so universally lamented. 
A long life of unsullied integrity, uncom- 
mon endowments for business, upright- 
ness in every social relation, congeniality 
of social intercourse alike with old and 



18«».| 



(kngrega^oml Neenbgif. 



227 



ymuif , genflnms tjittpftthy for tiie poor, 
and witbal a peaoeable temper, wMoh oould 
not brook the ill will of another even for a 
day, haYe left their indelible record upon 
the hearts of all who knew him. He made 
a publie profession of his faith in Christ on 
the 26th of April, 1807, and for about 25 
years imme<fiately preceding his death he 
bore the tide and honored the office of 
<* deacon/* 

The earlier jrears of his life, from boy- 
hrood to middle age, were spent in pursuing 
hie ficnrtune on the seas, haTing at the early 
age of nineteen attained the rank of ** mas- 
ter" in the merchant service. 

He was a man of prayer. A pleasing 
iUostration of this&ctis rdated in con- 
nection with his return firom a dangerous 
TOjrage at sea. Having been detained long 
oat of time, the fears of his femUy had be- 
gun to settle into a conviction that he was 
lost. But suddenly he arrived in port at 
ni^t. Yet, vrith all the tender impulses 
of a husband and father's heart to hasten 
hia steps homeward, he could not pass the 
little house of worship where he had often 
prayed vrith his brethren and which his 
own liberality had aided to build, without 
pausing at the door to utter his devout 
thanks to Almighty God for rescue from 
the perils of the deep. 

He was eminently a friend of the people 
of Ood ; insomuch that his house during a 
half century was noted for its Christian 
hospitslity. The people of (}od he regard- 
ed as haTxng a Just daim upon entertain- 
ment at his house. Indeed, at one time, 
when repeated adversities had reduced his 
fortune, he held himself in readiness to en- 
croach upon the little landed estate that 
remained to meet the exigencies of his 
Church, or the wants of his brethren. 

He was *< slow to speak, slow to wrath." 
There are few if any of his intimate friends, 
who have not often heard him allude to a 
discourse to which he listened, perhaps 
fifty years ago on a Sabbath which he 
transiently spent in the city of New York. 
It vras preached by Bev. Dr. Spring from 
the exhortation of our Saviour to his dis- 
ci]de8 — **/n your patience poasese ye your 
aomk" To the wonderful power of this 
discourse on his mind it is safe to attribute 
a marked transformation in his character, 
fnm, a naturally hasty temperament to a 
spirit of e^uaniwily and forbearance. 



He lived to see a numerous fhmily, em- 
bracing three generations of his posterity. 
Yet in all this circle, even to the day of bds 
death, the place for which he was so richly 
qualified, in the powers of his mind and 
the experience of his life, was with one con- 
sent accorded him by an affectionate off- 
spring. He was counsellor and leader, — 
in a word, a patriarch in his fimiily. 

The conviction had long possessed his 
mind that his already protracted lease of 
life must soon run out. Nor was the ap^ 
prehension avoidable to him that a long 
suspected disease of the heart would ulti* 
mately, in a sudden manner, terminate his 
earthly existence. 

His temporal affairs he had recendy 
adjusted with more than usual compact- 
ness and precision. The day preceding his 
death, he had again completed the New 
Testament in course of his daily readings, — 
the closing and most significant chapter of 
Bevelation having been the portion of Scrip- 
ture which he last perused. On the eve- 
ning of that day he witnessed the accom- 
plishment of an object which had for a long 
time been one of ardent desire to his mind, — 
the raising of a sum of money sufficient to 
cancel the many liabilities, and meet other 
important demands of his Church. He was 
personally present at a meeting appointed 
for this purpose, added generously to his 
already liberal pledge, addressed his breth- 
ren upon the importance of the enterprise, 
adding that he desired to see it accom- 
plished, not for himself, but "for the 
rising generation." Words of undoubted 
sincerity ! Ood vxa about to take him at hie 
word. He retired to his dwelling, in usual 
frame of body and mind, conversed freely 
as ever with his cHLdren, and bade them 
the usual *< good night." But long before 
the dawn of morning he soimded the alarm 
bell, which summoned a member of his 
foinily immediately to his bedside, only to 
find him in the embrace of death. He died 
apparendy without a strug^e. He uxUked 
with Ood, and he was not, fir Ood took him. 



Mrs. CHIFFAENETTE La GRASS 
FIELD, the wife of Rev. PixDAn Field, 
of Munnsville, N. Y., and daughter of Wil- 
lard Welton, Esq., of Hamilton, N. Y., 
was bom in Huntersland, Schoharie Co., 
N. Y., the 23d of March, 1809.' Her fadier 
having removed to Sherburne^ she became, 



lAt if.Sl^^kitmiiim^Mi^^ 






at tea yson of age, a hopeful aubject of 
diTiiiCfTBgciiemciiig grace, in a luvival hI 
tlut place. She did not, however, make a 
public profiiiuiiDn Ull 1826, in a pn-cious 
revival, which embraced in its limiu du; 
whole tgwo of Madijon, where ehc then 
redded. Fiom thai time, she adorned hei 
piofe«sian with a modcHt, but decided and 
bithful Chiiitian activity, ncvi? Hhrinking 
from auy responiiibilit}'. After lu.'r miir- 
ria^, in 1831, nhc Engaged wilh rauth 
■tdoT and iildll in the voriouA piotrected 
meetings in which her huibund was cm- 
plojed, and contribulcd not a little to the 
■uccei* of bis labor. For twenty-five yeara 
■he was regularly in the .Sabbath Sehool, 
and there led many to Jenuij ; i>hc enlisted 
io the various achemea of ChiistiBn benev- 
cdcnce, itimuieting others to aetion, as well 
aa Uboring herself in every good enterprise ; 
nhe WB« especially careful, in her own fum- 
ilj, to make home what it iihnuld be, — 
«»ying that ehe "could servo the Lord in 
taking core of Hu> ministers \" and at the 
sVne time the attended to the culture oi 
her own mind. 

While in her usual health, in tlie sum- 
mer, she seemed to have a prescience of her 
departure. She was unusually engaged to 
have ererythiug in relation to her family so 
wrangcd as to leave them in proper order. 
She once remarked, oitcr she was taken 
aiuk, that she '■ had been in a hurry all sum- 
mer to get ready to die." When taken 
fdck, and endnring the nio^t eiquisilc 
Kgony, ihe wm anuzed at ber own cftlm- 
neai and peac«£ilness. She had been 
^aid to die, and expected teiror wben it 



should appiOBcb. "Hut," said she, "I 
have no fear ; 1 have ooinmitted all to Uu: 
Saviour, and canlcaveall with him.." Her 
□idy feai was, lest in her paroiyoaa of dis- 
tress, she might be left to utter some ex- 
pression that would be diihonorable to the 
cause of ChrinC. -^s her strength failed 
rapidly, she was able to talk but little, but 
shi; gave or sent appropriate messages to 
different Classen. To her daugbtsr, then 
uneouvcrlcd, (but since led to hope,} she 
said, " The I«rd will take care of you if 
you put your trust In him." "Tell my 
Bible Class," uiid she, " I love them, and 
tell them to seek the Lord now, while in 
their youth. I had hoped to live to lead 
them all to Christ." " Tell the Church I 
love them better than 1 expected lo when I 
came here. Let them trust in the Lord, 
and be faithful until death, and then He 
will bestow a crown of life." Without 
fallciing, or the least misgivings, bhe was 
enabled to commit all her immortal inter- 
ests into the hands of Christ. The hymns, 
commencing ' ' How B.nn a foundatioii, ye 
saints of the Lord," and " Jesus, lover of 
my ?iDul," were peculiarly sweet to her ; a 
port of which she repealed in some of her 
last hours. Her reason continuing to the 
lost, she died in pence and triumph, Nnv. 
23, 1S5S. Her experience had been marked 
by a do^ consciousness of her own guilt 
and unworthincsH, and unfailing confidence 
in the merits of Christ, seeing no hope for a 
lost sinner but through &ilh in his all- 
perfect righteousness. Having hod thaf 
faith, she itlceps in tlie Lord, a tried and 
triumphant saint. 



LIST OP STATE OONGREOATIOSAI, BODIBS 



Haimb, General Conference. Kev. lobn 
W. Chickeiing, D.D., Portland, Modera- 
tOTj Dea. E. F. Duien, Bangor, Kecoid- 
ing Secretary ; Rev. Eliphalet Whittlesey, 
Bath, Corresponding [and Statistical] Sec- 
retary ; Bro. Samuel Sweetaer, North Yar- 
mouth, Treasurer ; Bro. John How, Port- 
land, Auditor. Neit session, Skowhegan, 
Tuesday, June 21, at B o'clock, A. M. 

New Haupbhibb, General Association. 
Rev. John £. Young, L«conia, Secretary ; 
Rev. Josiab G. Davis, Amherst, Statistical 
Secretary. Next session, (semi-centennial,) 
BoscBwen, (where originally oi^;Bniied,) 
Tuesday, August %i, at 10 o'clock, A. H. 

Txawure, Oenenl Co&Tentitn. B«t. 



Charles C. Paiker, Waterbury, Conespond- 
ing Secretary ; Rev, Aldaee WaBter, Rut- 
land, Register. Nratt aeiaion, Vergennes, 
Tuesday, June It, at 10 o'clock, A. M. 

M&HSACiii.'SBTTB, Gene^ Associatian. 
Rev. AloDio H. Quint, Jamaica Plain, Sec- 
retary, and ez-ofiteto Tiewurer, and Statis- 
tical 8«CTetarT- Keit aesd'on. Second 
Chnrch, Pittaitald, Tueaday, June 28, at 
4 o'clock, P. H, 

RuoDi IsuK», EvaDKdical Consocia- 
tion. Rev. Leonard Swam, D.D„ Provi- 
dence, Secretary, and Statistical Secretary. 
Next aeasion. Little Compton, Tuesday, 
Jniw 14, at 10 o'dock, A. M. 

ComnionoCT, Qenwl A*«nat«ttwt. B«v. 



imi 



Qt>«gif^Bifdm(^ ^iiKBitr^, Mti^prt^ 



^26. 



tSi&gw* Auftia FatDam, Whitneywe, 
(town of Hwnpdgn,) Treiunu^r, and, es- 
offldo, Statisticiil Seeretaiy. Next session, 
ibi^ I50th amiitenaij; Norwich, (where 
originally organized,) Tuesday, June 21, at 
11 o'dodK, A. M. 

Nbw Yoke, Qenenl Association. IUt. 
Homer K. Dunning, GloYenville, Bens- 
ter and Treasurer; Rer. Jjimes H. Dili, 
Sj^ceiport Statistical and Publishing 
Secretarj ; Kev. Jonathan Bdwards, Roch- 
ester, Oonesponding Secretary. Next ses- 
sion, TabeiWade Churdi, New York Oity, 
Tuesday, September 20, at 10 o'dock, A. M. 

Ohio, Congregational Conference. Key. 
Henry Cowles, Oberlin, Ulster; Rev. 
Nathanid P. Bailey, Painesnlle, Statisti- 
cal Secretary. Next session, Sandusky 
City, Thursday, June 9, at 7 o'dook, P. M. 

IiiDiAMA, General Conference. Rev. M. 
A* Jewett, Terre Haute, Moderator ; Rey. 
N. A. Hyde, Indianapolis, Secretary. Next 
sesdon, Indianapolis, Thursday, May 12, 
at 7 o'dock, P. M. 

iLLinoia* General Association. Rey.Fla- 
yd Ba:9com, Dover, Moderator ; Rev. Mar- 
tin K. Whittlesey, Ottawa, Coxrespondine 
Secretary and Treasurer; Rev. Flayd 
Bascom, Dover, Register. Next session, 
Bloomixigtoii, Thursday^ May 19, at 7>^ 
o'clock, P. M. 

MiOHiaAN, General Association. Rev. 
L. Smith Hobart, Hudson, Secretary, [and 
Statisticd Secretary, ] and Treasurer. Next 
session, Detroit, Thursday, May 19, at 7 
o'clock, P. M. 

tVisooNsur, Presbyterian and Congrega-' 
tional Convention. -Rev. N. D. Graves, 
Allen's Grove, Moderator; Rev. Z. M. 
Humphrey, Milwaukie, Stated Clerk, and 
Treasurer ; Rev. R. J. Montague, Summit, 
Permanent [and Statistical! Clerk. Next 
session, Janesville, Wednesoay, September 
28, at 7 o'clock, P. M. 

Xow;a, General Associadon. Rev. Wil- 
liam Salter, Burlington, Register. Next 
sesdon, Muscatine, Wednesday, June 1, at 
7% o'dock, P. M. 



MiKMBSo^, Geneal ContBrenoe. Rev. 
Charles Seccombe, St. AxttfaoBy^ •Corres- 
ponding and Statistical Secretary ; Syl ven- 
ter J. Smith, Winona, Treasurer ; Horace 
L^ Nichols, Auditor. Next sesdon, Wino- 
na, Thursday, Oct. 13, at 7 o'clock, P. M. 

Kansas, G^crd Assodation. Rev. 
Riclu^d Cordley, Lawrence, Stiated Clerk ; 
Bro. J. Ritchey, Topeka, Treasurer. Next 
sesdon, Lawrence, May 26» at 7 o'dock, 
P. M. 

Nbbraska, General Association. Rev. 
Isaac E. Heaton, Fremont, Chairman ; Rev. 
£. B. Huribut, F<Aitendle, Stated [and 
Statistical?] Clerk. Next sesdon, Deca- 
tur, Burt Co., Friday, May 6, at 7)^ 
o'clock, P. M. 

OnBooN, ConipqiatiQnal Assodation. 

California, General Assodation. Rev. 
J. H. Warren, Nevada, Register and Trea- 
surer. Next annual sesdon, San Fran- 
cisco, Wednesday, October 6, at 9 o'dock, 
A. M. 

Canada, Congregational Union. Rev. 
F. H. Marlin, Toronto, Chaizman; Rev. 
Edward Ebbs, ^BCamilton, Secretary-Trea- 
surer. Next sesdon, Toronto, Thursday, 
June 8, at 4 o'dock, P. M. 

The order of sesdons during the present 
year is as ib^ows : 

Nebraska— Decatur, Friday, May 6. 
Indiana*— Indianapolis, Tharsday, May 12. 
Illinois — Bloomington, Thursday, May 19. 
Michigan—Detroit, Tharsday, May 19. 
Kansas — Lawrence, Thursday, May 20. 
Iowa — Muscatine, Wednesday, June 1. 
Canada — ^Toronto, Wednesday, June 8. 
Ohio— Columbus, Thursday, June 9. 
Vermont^Vergennes, Tuesday, June 14. 
Rhode Island — Little Compton, Tuesday, 

June 14. 
Maine— Skowhegan, Tuesday, June 21. 
Connecticut — Norwich, Tuesday, June 21. 
Massachusetts— Pittsfield, Tuesday, June 28. 
N. Hampshire — Boscawen, Tuesday, Aug. 28. 
New York— N. Y. City, Tuesday, Sept. 20. 
Wisconsin — Janesville, Wednesday. Sept. 28. 
California— San Frandsco, Wednesday, Oet.6. 
Minnesota*— Winona, Thursday, Oct. 13. 
Oregon— Oct. 



It is not presumed that the following lists are complete. As, howcTcr, it is desired to sup- 
ply all Tacandes, any person will confer a faror by furnishing such notices as are wanting. 
Friends will also do a serrice by regularly eommunicating the facts of which it is desirable td 
make a permanent reeord.— *£ds. 



<S^tttd^e0 JFotmeti. 



1868. 
Not. 80. 

D6S.12. 

isei. 

Jsn. 



Al SUMBRSBT, Hllltdals Co., Mieh. 
'* BURN& lA Oro«M Co., Wise. 
*< COTTAQX QROTA, Wsahiagtoa Co , 
Hiao. 



Jao. — 
" 17, 
" 27, 
" 81, 



Fob. 8, 
" 28, 



At 08AGK, lUtebcU Co., Iowa. 
«* DALLAS CITT, lows. 
" COLDWAtSR, Brmneh Co., Illeh. 
" NORtH LA CR088B, U Cnmt Co.. 
Wlio. ' 

" DUULVATH, DJ. 
** ST. GfiARlMMIaa. 



2S0 



Padon Ditrnmed. — JUbditert Ordained^ dke. [Afbil^ 



ya0tot0 9temi({0eti. 

NOT. aO. 1868. ItoT. BLI W. HARKINQTON, fr«B 
fcb« Ch. in Koclkaiter, Ms. 

JAN. 10, 1869. Iter. L B. ROOK WOOD, from tb* 
Ob. i*t Kooky Hill, Gt. 

** 90. Rer. RDTUS M. 8AWTBR, from tho Cb. in 
Wialbrop, Mo. 

*< 26. IUt. ALLBN LINCOLN, from «ho Oh. in 
Gnj, Mo. 

*« 26. Rot. JOSBPH LORINO, from tfio Oh. in 
Pomml, Mo. 

'« 27. Rot 0H\RLBS ORBBNWOOD, from tho 
Vint Oh. io Ifo^tmonlood, N. U. 

" — Rer. WALTBR OUARKB, D.D., from tho 
8ee<ni(l Ch., Utftlbri, Oi.— oooopdog tho oaU of 
tho Morcor Stxoot Chnreh, Now York. 

BBB. 7. Rot. M B. BRADfORD, horn tho Ch. in 
Onfton, Yt. 

« 10. Rot. STBPHBN 0. 8TR0N0, frnm tho Cb. 
io SoutlMmploo, Ml. 

MARCH 1 Rot. THOMAS MORONG, from tho nnt 
Ch. in Iowa Citjr, Iowa. 

M L Rot. SAMDBL'C BARTLKTT, from tho 
N. B. Cb. in Chieaco, III., —to duroto himoelf to 
tho dntieo of ProAioor in tho Chieogo Thfologl- 
oal Sominarjr. 

" 2 R«T. J. 8. DATI8, from tho Ch. in 

Wontwoith, N. H. 

«« 2. Rot. BROITN BMBRSON, from tho Ch. 
in MoDtogoe, Ma. 

*' 10. Rot. CHARLB9 LIYINOSTONB, from 
tho Ch. in Bfattapotoott, Mi. 

«« 10. Rot. THOMAS S. NORl^N, from tho 
Cb. in SolliTan, N. H. 

" 10. BoT. CHARLB3 W. TORRBT, from tho 

Ch. in Bast doTelaod, 

** 16. Rot. JOSBPH W. CROSS, from tho Oh. 
in West Bojrioton, Bli. 

" — Rot. ASA F. CLARK, from tho Ch. jn 
Porn, Vt. 

«* 17. Rot. WM. B. BASSBTT, from tho Ch. in 
Contral Village. Ct., to tako oflbot April 14. 

^ 24. R«T. M. M. LONQLBT, from the Ch. in 
Pom, Ma. 

** aO Rot. TIMOTHY F. CLARY, from the 
Ch. In A«bland, Ma. 

** 80. Rot. HIRAM DAY, from the Cb. hi 
Maneheator Station, Ct. 



f&inisiittsi ®ttia{neti or Sndtalleti. 

DBC. 6, 1858. Rot. ELI CORWIN, formerly of San 
Jose, California, oTer the Fore Street Ch., Hooo- 
Inla, Sandwich lalanda. Sermon by ReT. B. 0. 
Beokwith, Preo. of Oahn Colle^. InatalUng 
Prayer by Rot. A. Biahop. 

•* 22. Mr. JOHN H. WINDSOR, OTer the Ch. in 
St Chartea City, Floyd Co , Iowa. Ordaining 
Prayer by ReT. W. J. Smith, of Oaage. 

" 29. R«T. ALBERT BIOELOW, over tho Ch. in 
Homer, N. Y. 

JAN. 5, 1859. ReT. JOHN HASKBLL. htto of DoTor, 
' Mi«., OTer rhe Ch. In Kaynbam, Ma. Sermon bT 
Rev. A. R. Baker, of Went Needbam. Inatal- 
ling Pmyor by Rot. J<^n Sandford, of Taunton. 

" 5. Rot. MATSON M. SMITH, late of Brook- 
line, Ma., oTer the First Ch. In Bridgeport, Ct. 
Sermon by Rct. Roowell D. Hitchcock, of Union 
Theti. Sera., N. Y. Installing Pmyor by Rot. 
Dr. Hewitt. 

«« 8. Mr. CHARLES L. AYBB, OTor tho Ch. in 
Tolootown and Sterlinc, Ot.,-^ qow hooas of 
wonhlp bdng «idlMttd Iho mow diqr. 



hy EoT. Mr. Soalo, of Hampton. Ordainlni^ 
Pnjer by Rot. Mr. Whitmofe, of Wostflold. 

^ 10. Rot. JOEL f . BINOH \M, late of Andorw 
Corner, OTer the Cb In Qoehen, Cc Sermon by 
ReT Dr. Joseph Bldridgo, of Norfolk. Inatal- 
nng Prayer by Rot Mr. Spencer, of New Hart- 
ford 

*• 18 Rot. EDWARD W. OILMAN, tote of Gam- 
hridgeport, OTor tho First Parish Ch. in Buigar, 
Me. Sermon by JioT. Dr. Oeorgo Shepard. la- 
■tailing Prayer by ReT. J. Maitby. 

** 18. RsT. R. B. THURSTON, late of Chieopoo, 
Ms., OTor tho Trin. Cb. In Waltbam, Ms. Ser- 
mon by Rot. Dr. Kirk, of Boston. Installing 
Prayer by Rot. Sewall Harding, of Anbnmdalo. 

" 18. Mr. NATHAN 8. UASELTINB, OTer tho 
Ch. in AndoTor, Vt. Sermon by R«t. Jooatlun 
Clement, D.D , of Woodstock. Ordaining Pra> or 
by ReT. 8. R. Arms, of Springfield. 

** 18. Mr. ALANSON 80UTHW0RTH, oeer tho 
Oh. in Sooth Perls, Mo. Sermon by Rot. A. T. 
Loring. 

^ 18. Rot. D. D. MoLAUOHLIN, formerly of tho 
Third Presbytery, N. Y., OTor the Cb. in Sharon, 
Ct. Sermon by ReT. H. ifidiy , of Mount Canaan . 
Installing Prayer by Rot. Dr. Joseph Bldridgo, 
of Norfolk. 

** 19. Rot. WM. C. DICKINSON, late of Middle- 
dleboro', Ms., over the Cb. in ICenosha, Wis. 
Sermon by Rot. Professor Hhtou, of Chicago, 
111. Installing Prayer by ReT. J. Qridky, the 
former pastor. 

" 19. Mr. HENRY A. MINER, late of Bine HIU, 
Me., over the Cb. in Menasha, Wis. 

" 20. Mr. J. BVARTS POND, (son of Rot. Dr. 
Pond, of Bangor, Me.) OTor the Ch. in Neenash, 
Wis. 

M 20. Mr. JOHN R. THURSTON, as paMor of the 
(ddtown) Cb., Newbnry, Ms.,— of which Rot. 
Leonard Witblnitton, D D., is senior pastor. Ser- 
mon by Rev. Prof. Sbepard. of Bangor. Ordein- 
ing l*rayer by Rot. DaTld Thurston, D.D., of 
Wintbrop, Me. 

*' 25 Mr. HIRAM E. JOHNSON, as an ETango- 

list, at Bath. N. Y. Sermon by ReT. Jonathan 
Bdwards, of Rochester. Ordaining Prayer by 
ReT. J. Woodruff, of Choctaw. 

<* 26. Rot. WM. A. FOBES, late of Hooksett, 
N. II., OTer the Cb. In Lebanon, Me. Sermon by 
Rot. Rofns M. Sawyer, late of Wintbrop, Me. 
Insulling Prayer by Rot. Christopher Marsh, of 
Sanford. 

FEB. 2. Mr. C. L. OOODBLL, over the South Cb. in 
New Britain, Ct. Sermon by ReT. Israel E. 
Dwinell, of Salem, Ms. Installing Prayer by 
ReT. Dr. Porter, of Farmtngton, Ct. 

** 2. Mr. WILLIAM RUSSELL, as an Erangellst, 
at SoTllle, 0. Sermon by Rev. J. 0. Wblte, of 
ClcTeUnd. OnUiulng Prayer by Rot. J. N. 
Whipple, of Bruuswiuk. 

" 2. ReT. ROSWKLL FOSTER, Isteof Weethamp- 
ton, Mf., over the South Oh. in PittsfielJ. Ser- 
mon by KeT. Eden B. Foster, of Lowell. Instal- 
ling Prayer by K«t. C. 8. Renshaw, of Richmond. 

't 9. ReT. HENRY BATES, OTor the Ch In Al- 
moot, Mich. Sermon by Hot. H. D. Kitebel, of 
Detroit. Installing Prayer by ReT. E. T. Brand, 
of Cauandaigua. 

10. Mr. WM. H. FENN, over the Franklin 
Street Cb , MaocbeMter, N. il. Sermon by ReT. 
Prof. Austin Pbelp«. Onlalnlng Prayer by Rot. 
C. W. Wallace, ot Manchester. 

15. Mr. PLINY H. WHITE, as an ETangellst, 
at CoTontry, Vt. Sermon by ReT. Geo. N. Web- 
ber, of St. Johnsbury Ordaining Prayer by 
Rot. Samuel R. Hall, of Brownington. 

16. Rot. AARON 0. BEACH, lata of Woleott, 
Ot., OTor tlie First Ch. in Mililngton, Ct. Ser- 
mon by Rot. A. 0. Denison of Wcsteliestor. In- 
itaUing Piajor by Rot. D. S.-Bnlnerd, othjwm. 



14 



It 



it 



1859.] 



MwitUri Married.-^JI&ikta'* Deeeattd, 



231 



1KB. 17. B«T. HUOH MoUBOD, fwuMrlv of BpiiBf- 
fl«ld, 0., OTvr Um Cta. to Bnmtwood, N H. Ser- 
oiAD bj KeT. Lfotmrd S. Parker, of Havtriilll, 
M«. lonMiUiDg Pnyer by IU»t. Wlothrop Fifleld, 
of Soaih Newmarket, N. H. 

« 22. ReT. 8. A. D WIN ELL, over tbo Ch. in 
Reedflborg, Wivmiain. Sermon bj Rev. Warnn 
Corbran, of Baraboo. Ordaining Prayer by Rot. 
H. Hutebena, of Pndf St da Sac. 

** 22. Mr. 8. NORTON, and Mr. J. X. GROSS, nt 
Labttnon, Ohio, *» KvangelitCi. 

Also Rer. B V. MOKRI;S. over the Gb. In Lab*, 
noa. Sermon by Rot. U. B. BlUoc, of Oolnmbna. 

*• 28. Mr. WM. E. ATLIN, over the Gb In Una, 
Mieb. Sermon by Rot. S. D. Goehrao, of Aon 
Arbor. 

** 28. Mr. KZRA H. BTINGTON. ovor the Tint 
Gb. In WlndM»r, Yt. Sermon by Rev. Galvln 
Frase, D.D. OrdHinIng Prayer by Rer. Jonathan 
Glement, D.D., of WoodKtock. 

** 28 RpT. JOHN M. PRINCB, late of Qeorge- 
town, M»., oTer the THnitarlan Gb. In Bridice> 
water, Ms. Sermon by Rot. M. P. Braman, D.D., 
of Denvers InMallIng Prayer by Rev. Mr. Ter- 
17, of Senth H'eymonth. 

MARCH 2. Rer. S. M BLANGUARD, formerly of 
Cbiebeeter, N H. Sermon by Prof. D. J. Noyee, 
D.D., of Dartmontb College In«talI1bg Prayer 
. by Rer. I. S. Da?lt, of Piermont. 

•* 8. Rev. S. B. WILLIAMS, over the Ch. in 
Warsaw, N. T. 

** 9. Mr. ALPHBUS J. PIKB. oTer the Ch. in 
Marlborough, Ct. Sermon and Ordaining I*iayer 
by Rev. Jeremiah Taylor, of Middletown Chsirge 
by ReT. Fred. D. Avery of Cotnmbia. 

10. RcT. OOARLBS P. OROSVBNOR. late 
ofStoorbam, Ms., over tbe Ch. in Oaoterbnry, 
Ct. Sermon by Rev. J. P. OulliTer. of Norwioh. 
Inntalliog Pmyer by Rev. Mr. Uaven, of Wei>t- 
minster. 

10. Rer. WM. L. PARSONS. oTer the Ch. 
in Matupolsett, Ms., wben lie bad b«en laboring 
Ibr tbe pest year. Sermon by Aht. Dr. CleaTe- 
land, of Lowell. Insulling Prayer by Ker. I. C. 
Thatebvr. of Middleboro. Charge by IUt. A. 
Cobb, of New Bedford. 



(t 



t4 



MARCH 80. Ber. BDWIN A. BUGB:, Ulkt of BatM, 
Me., over the Gh. In Blateterille, R. I. Sermon 
by llUrr. U. D. Walker, of Bast Ablogtoo, Ms. 
InstaUiug Pr^er by Jiev. Mr. Otis, of ChejMtwt. 



fSLiniaixtB M^vtUtJ. 

DBG. 28. 1868. In Dorehesrer, Ms., Rot. ANDRBW 
BIQBLOW. of Medfleld, and Miss NANOIB J„ 
daughter of Hon. Marshall P. Wilder, of I>orclMO> 
tor, Ms. 

** 29. In Boston, Ms., Kot. THOMAS 8. POT- 
WIN, of New Uaeen, Ct., and Miss HARRIBT 
A. KINO, of Boston. 

*« 29 In Hanover, N. H., Bee. X. J. ALDBN, of 
We4t Springfield, Ms., and Mim UBLBN f . 
STORKS, of HanoTer. N. U. 

JAN. 18, 1868. In Grafton, Tfc., Rer. GHBSTXR D. 
JRFFKKD9, of Ch««ter, Ft, and Miss BLBGTA 
B., daoghler of Hon. Tliomas Miller, of Dna- 
mtfrstOD, Tt. 

" 24. In New York, ReT. JOSEPH ANDABSON, 
of Stamford, Gt., and Miss ANNS S., daoghte^of 
Thomas J. OIldemleeTe of New York. 

MARCH 4. In HaUfkx, Ms., Rer. ELBRIDGX O. 
HOWB, of Wsuketcan, III., and Miss MART 8. 
8TURTBYANT, uf Halllkx. 

" 15. In vVoraestar, Ms., Rer. T. D. P. 8T0NX, 
and Miss SARAH M. DICKINSON. 



fiilnitiittfi Orceaseti. 



CHARLXS B. BALL, 
GYRUS MANN, 



JAN. 27. In WUton, Ct., Rst 
ag^dSl. 

FiCB. 9. In Stonghton, Bis.. Rst 
aged 78. 

" 16. In QuUdhail, Yt., B»r. THOMAS HALL. 

•' 21. In South Boston, Ms., Ree. JOY H. FAIR- 
CHILD, sged 70. 

*' 26. In Nelson, N. H., Rer. GAD NBWXLL, 
aged 96 years, 6 months and 18 days. 

MARCH 29. In Hanover, N. H., Rev. JOHN RICH- 
ARDS, D.D., aged (B. 



AMERICAN CONOREOATIONAL UNIOl^, NBJT YuRK. 

The Trustees of the above named Association hold their regular monthly meetings at No. 
7 Appleton Building, 348 Broadway, N. T., in the afternoon of the Tuesday next following 
the first Monday in each monthi except August. We shall, hereafter, publish any items of 
business transacted at these meetings which will be of general interest. As their great work 
now is to secure funds for aiding feeble Congregational chtirches in erecting housea of wor- 
ship, we shall insert the amount of money receipts, as also of appropriations. 

The receiptM for January were j|^l,323 17> and for February 01,146 01. Appropriations have 
been made during the last three months, as follows, vis : To the Congregational church at 
Downieville, Cal., $200 00, additional to a previous appropriation of ||30000 ; Menasha, Wis., 
^50; Sterling and Voluntown, 080 00 ; Neosho Falls, K. T., 0100 00; Eau Claire, Ban 
Claire Co., Wis., #250 00 ; New London, Wis., $2d0 00 ; St. Charles, Min., 0250 00 ; Plym- 
outh, Wis., 0250 00; Brown vill e, N, T., $300 00; Hudson, Wis., 02oOOO; Grand Haven, 
Mich., 0200 00 ; Leeroysville, Penn., 0300 00. The first two named above have completed 
their houses and received their appropriations. The rest of the money will be paid at toon as 
the conditions are complied with, which may be seen in the "Tear Book " for 1869, p. 210. 

At the regular meeting in February it was voted, "that all the appropriations of the Amer- 
ican Congregational Union to aid feeble churches in erecting houses of worship be void, 
where the conditions are not complied with, in one year from the date of the appropriation, 
unless the time is extended by an especial vote." 

At an especial meeting held March 22d, the action of the Library Aatodation, of Botton, in 
rtUtion to a union with this Board rtgarding tht Congregational Qnmrterly, and the aatantof 



BS2 (^uarkrfy MiOk^ ^ ^ 0(^. ^^^ {Amu 

the Itet. H. M. Dexter aad the BeT. A.H. Quiilt to the Mime, wM read and duly considered ; 
aad the conditions of said union were most cordially accepted : the |>articalars concerning 
which may be seen in another place. 



QUAETEELY MBETINO OF THE CONGEBOATIONAL LIBE AET ASSOCIATION. 

The last quarterly meeting of this body was an occasion of rare interest to the loTers of 
that old Puritan type of character, which it is the main object of the Association to reproduce. 
A fine specimen, in the person of Governor Eoger Wolcott of Connecticut, who entered upon 
this earthly stage in 1679, and left in 1767, was. given by a lineal descendant, Eev. Samuel 
Wolcott, pastor of the High Street Church, Providence, E. I. 

Mr. W. was fortunate in being able to draw his materiaU almost wholly from private manu- 
script journals, and letters, preserved in the family, and now for the first time laid opci^ to 
the public. The events recounted in an hour's sketch of his life and labors cannot be particu- 
larised in this brief notice. The prominent part which he was called to act at the siege of 
Louisbufg, as second in command to Pepperell, and the laurels with which he decked his 
brow in that ever memorable expedition, will be regarded by the mass as the culminating point 
in a long life of honorable achievements. But if ** he that ruleth his spirit is better than he 
that taketh a city," the old Puritan Governor performed his greatest exploit in the meek and 
forgiving spirit with wbich he bore the loss of all his public honors, through false representa- 
tions of enemies. Though these calumnies were subsequently refuted to his entire acquittal, 
yet before he could obtain an investigation, or be sure that his cause would ever be righted in 
the present world, he recorded in his journal, like a true hero and philosopher, as he was, *' I 
am now stript of all public trust and business, and yet have lost nothing that was my own, or 
that I had right to claim a coiitinuance of; or any thing that, considering my age, it is not 
better for me to be without than to have. May I not then take this as a benefit, and since 
my mother's sons have discharged me from keeping their vineyard, apply myself more closely 
to the keeping my own ? Here, here is work enough to be done in thankful acknowledgment 
of former favors, and living up to my duty for time to come." 

At the close of the reading, Mr. Wolcott presented to the Congregational Library Associa- 
tion the document which he had read, together with a manuscript journal kept by General 
Wolcott of every day's doings at the siege of Louisburg, in such detail as to inform us of the 
exact number of shots and shells fired on each side ; and also records of other interesting 
matters public and private, which were penned from memory in his old age,— covering more 
than fifty folio pages of manuscript, in all. For an account of Governor Wolcott's ancestry, see 
the interesting article, pp. 141-60 of this number, designed originally to be a part of the paper 
read, but omitted for want of time. 

We regret that our second number is a few days behind its date in reaching our readers ; 
but the many labors, cares and perplexities incident to the beginning of such an enterprise, 
have made it necessary. We believe, however, that our arrangements are now so far per- 
fected, that we may confidently hope to exhibit the utmost virtue of punctuality hereafter. 

It will be seen, from an announcement on the title page, that this Journal — since its last 
issue^has acquired a relation to the American Congregational Union of New Turk, similar to 
that which it before held to the Congregational Library Association of this city ; and that 
Eev. Isaac P. Lanowobthy, as representing the Union, has become associated with the 
Editors in their work. We think that all our readers will rejoice in a movement which will 
tend to bind our Denomination, East and West, more closely together, and which can hardly 
fail greatly to increase the circulation, influence and value of the Qvaritrly. It is one feature 
of this arrangement that the publication of the Year Book will be suspended, and its matter 
be given on the pages of t'he Quarterly — the statistics complete in the January number. 

It will be noticed that the present number is considerably larger than the outside limit 
assigned in our original plan. This is done with the conviction, already justified by the 
favorable reception we have met with, that our Denomination will rightly appreciate a work 
that evidently fills a niche not otherwise occupied, and not interfering, in the least degree, 
with any other publication now existing. 

If our readers feel that we give them a great deal for one dollar a year, we shall be glad to 
hkve them remember that only a very large subscription list can sustain us in so doing. Will 
not ^4i6h due ttiid us at tfeast one hew tubacribei'at once; for the gcfneral gck>d and— <>ur oWn ? 










S 

i tb»^ 
lb tbe 

fcato** 

by the 
s work 
degree. 



glad to 



BX own 




rn'irpoi'' MATiHina^.'n-Jii- 



^munptioMl ^mtttrl^. 



. Vol. X-rJULt, 1859.— No. HI. 



■ eOTTOH MrAfPITBB. 

BT **T- *U>HKO Ut «riNT, JIUAICA FLAW. 

" On Moniday last," saj-s the Nem Eng- " by wbiMe Death, Persona of all Ranks 

land Weddy Journal, dated Feb. 26, 1 728, are in ConRern and Sorrow. He waa," it 

" the K^maiti? of the late very Reverend cantinnes, " perhaps, tiie principal Oma- 

and Learned Dr. Cotton Matbiui, who ment of Ibia Coiinliy, and the greatest 

deceased the tliirlK^nth instant, to the Si'holar that ever was bred in it. But 

|rreat Loss anil Sorrow of this Town and besides his unnsnal learning : his exalted 

Country, were vurj- honorablj inlerred. Piety and extensive Charily, his entor- 

His Reverend Colleague, in deep Mourn- taining Wit, and singular Gooiiness of 

ing, with the Brethren of the Church, temper, recommended him to all that 

walking in a Body, before the Corpse, were Judges of real and distinguished 

The SixBrrt Mimstera of the Boston Lee- Merit:" and the forty-seven years nf hii 

ture' supported the Pall. Several Gen- professional life, it declares to have "been 

tlemen of the bereaved lloi.'k took their spent in tlie faithful and unwearied Di»- 

tums to bear the Coffin. After which charge i ' " ' 

followed, 6rst. the bereaved Relatives, in Ministr; 

Mourning; then his Honour the Lieuten- do Good and spread abroad the Glory of 

ant Governor, the Honourable His Ma- Christ" 

jesty's Council, and House of Representa- Nor were the pulpits of Boston nleat 

lives i and then a large train of Ministers, npon this occasion. Various commemo- 

Justices, Merchants, Scfaolars, and other rative sermotis followed his decease, four 

principal Inhabitants, both of Men and of which are still in print' ITie Rere- 

Women. The Streets were crowded with rend Samuel Mather paid the tribute of 

People, and the windows filled with sor- filial affection to bis father's memory, in 

rowfiil Spectators, all the way to the Bury- his father's pnlpit The Reverend Ben- 

ing place," The some newspaper, in its jamin Colman preached, the Thursday 

issue a week earlier, mentions him as one befiire the burial, a* the Lecture, on 

~i Tt» " midUmi* of tt» BoKoD uctan" «^ Enoch's Translation. The Reyarend 

than ■ho, aeb In tarn, pnulMd tbg Tbnndij • Thaf ■» to tn Ibiud iB Uu LlbiaiT ot Uw K*a- 

LKtnnln thoTlntChanh, iiiaMDMlU ooDtlDiMil. 



234 CoOm Mather. [Jclt, 

Jo8liaaGree,^tlie Sabbatb after the funeral, never the recipient of honors of state, 
on the Mourning of Israel for Aaron, attending faithfully to the duties of his 
And the Reverend Thomas Prince, on pastoral station, never out of New Eng- 
Elisha*s Lamentation for Elijah. The land, and seldom varying his place be- 
application of these themes is suggested yond a journey to Ipswich or Dedham, or 
by their mere mention ; and while so dis- some intermediate town, when concerned 
criminating and chaste as to be excellent in the ecclesiastical matters of the Pro- 
examples in this species of literature, their vince, and at the same time a student and 
eminently eulogistic tone expresses the writer such that his reputation became 
general sadness which was felt at the loss European, and his influence on New £ng- 
of this distinguished man. land ineradicable. We propose only to 

It is, of conrse, true, that neither the gather out of cotemporaneous records, his 

panegyrics of public prints, nor the sub- main characteristics, 

sequent praises of partial friends, are. Cotton Mather was bom in Boston, 

independently, reliable materials for his- on the twelfth day of February, 1662-3. 

tory. They are not adduced as such here. His father was the Reverend Increase 

But the mere existence of four sermons Mather, pastor of the North Church in 

npon his death ; the public sorrow which Boston, President of Harvard College, 

crowded the streets with spectators of his and an agent for the Province, in its times 

funeral ; the procession of scholars, mer- of need, to the courts of three English 

chants, clergymen, and officers of govern- monarchs ; and who, while outshone by 

ment, who, for once, met on common the more brilliant talents of his son, sur- 

ground, and especially the presence of passed him in some qualities which go to 

the Legislature of the Province, with constitute true greatness; an eminently 

Lieutenant Governor Dummer, then, as able and holy man, of wonderful energy, 

for five years previous, Acting Governor of sound judgment, of vigorous and clear 

and Commander-in-chief, in days when intellect, of steadfast will, and of great 

the etiquette was that of a Royal Province, power and warmth in the pulpit. His 

following to the grave a man who held no mother was Maria, the youngest child of 

higher station and performed no other the Reverend John Cotton; the latter 

official service, than those of a mere Con- well known as an holy as well as eminent 

gregational minister, prove, beyond doubt, man ; for twenty years the clergyman of 

the respect and affection which Cotton the Boston of Old England, and for 

'Mather received from those who knew twenty more the minister of the First 

him. " One of the greatest of ministers," Church of the Boston of New England, 

said the conscientious pastor of the Old which, to honor him, received its name. 

South, " is fallen in Israel." " We mourn Cotton Mather's grandfather, on the pa- 

the decease from us," said the venerable ternal side, was the Reverend Richard 

minister of Brattle street, then in the Mather, who, a fugitive from the persecu- 

twenty-ninth year of his pastorate, " of tions of the Church of England, was the 

the first Minister in the Town, the first pastor of the First Church in Dorchester, 

in age, the first in gifts and in grace. ... an able and practised controversialiijt, and 

I might add, . . . the first in the whole the principal author of the Cambridge 

Province and Provinces of New England, Platform of Church Discipline ; "divinely 

for so universal literature and so extensive rich and learned Richard Mather," whose 

services." wife, Katherine Holt, of honorable de- 

A sketch of the life of this man is mere- scent, was more honorable for her uncom- 

ly an account of a minister of a Congre- mon devotion, and the instructions her son 

gational Church in the town of Boston, Increase never forgot ; " Child," she used 

1 Cotton UaUmt's ooii«agae! to say, "if God make thee a good Christ- 



1859.] 



Ootion Mather. 235 



ian and a good scholar, thoa hast all that " ^"^^ *'>'■ ■t"°* "* Bkhard Hath«, 

ever thy mother asked for thee." 7^? ■»* ' «n p»t.r *>>» U.M>«, 

^ ... , , And •taagitnitaongFwttor thin ei«h«." 
The family mnuences which surrounded 

Cotton Mather were, thus evidently, of ^« education was at the free Bchool in 
the choicest character: they were those ^^^°» ""°^®' ^® ^"^^ first, of Bir. 
of Puritan famines of the old stamp. It is Benja. Thompson, a Man of great Learn- 
true that he was but six years old when '""S and Wit, who was well acquainted 
his grandfather Mather died; and that he ^^ ^""^ ^^ ^^^ Wnters, and a 
knew only by description of the form of Spod Poet; last, under the famous Mr. 
the venerable Cotton, with hair as white ^^^^^^ Cheever,* who was a very learned, 
as the driven snow, who, majestic and yet P»^^ ^*°' "^^ ^ excellent Schoolmaa- 
affectionate, in air and spirit, grew more ^^^"' ^^^^ ^® ®°*«'^^ ^^"®««' ^^^ 
and more to bear a closer likeness to was at twelve years of age, he had read 
"that disciple whom Jesus loved," than T"^^>^» Terence, Ovid, and VirgU; had 
any other New England minister. But g*^°® through the Greek Testament, and 
his father's care sheltered him in child- ^^^ commenced Iflocrates, Homer, and the 
hood, and his counsels aided him till within Hebrew Grammar. In college, he was a 
four years of his own death ; and tradition ^^^^ student, not only mastering the pr^ 
tells us thit his mother, (who lived to say, ^"^<* sUidiea, but reading and comment- 
" I have often blessed the Lord that made "^g "P^'^ ™^°3^ ^^^^ ^° general, as well 
me the mother of such an eminent servant ^ ^^*^^ Uterature. He commenced here 
of God,") inherited the refined and saintiy ^^^ ^®^"® ^^ wonderful erudition which 
virtues of her father,—" a Gentlewoman P^^®^ *^» ^^^^ * ^®^ y^*"' without 
of much Goodness in her Temper, a dispute, at the head of the learned men of 
Godly, an Humble, and a Praying Wo- ^®^ England, and an equal, at least, of 
man, and one that often set apart whole those of his age. 

Days for Prayer and Secret Interviews ^^ ^^^^' ^® ^^ ^ ^®g^® ^^ ^V^" 

with Heaven." ®^^^ i ^® was then sixteen years of age. 

Of this good lineage was Cotton Mather. ^^^ «®^®^*^ >^®*" foUowing, while con- 

" I have no great Disposition to enquire ^^g ^« «*'*^®«' ^® engaged in teach- 

into the remote Antiquities of his Family," "*g ' ^^ "^^^^ ^^ principally to fit young 

says his son Samuel ; » " nor indeed b it a °^®° ^®' college, and with the fervor and 

matter of much consequence," he con- learning which characterized him, he waa 

tinues with a modest vanity, " that in our successful ; many eminent men, some 

Coat of Arms, we bear Ermine, Or, A ^^^^^ ^^ himself, tiius felt his influence, 

Fess, Wavy, Azure, three Lions rampant ; not only mentally, but spirituaUy. In 

or, for a Crest, on a wreath of our Colours, t The roi^ject of this iketch pnuhmi a Auieni di*- 

a Lion Sedant, Or on a Trunk of a Tree coane upon the daoaue of Mr. Chcerer, in the iii« 

vert" " The Religion and Learning t«>d«««»n to which he mjti : " He wm bom in Lon- 

r 1 • .L T^ -I » I. ji -.1 • don, ... Jan. 26, 1614 ; he MTiTed into this country 

found m the Family,' he adds, with evi- j^ j^^^ jggy^ ^^ the reet of thoee good m«i who 

dent truth, " was the most agreeable Plea- aoaght a peaceable eecesdon in an American wilder- 
sure to my Father, and yields the most *»«^ *" ***« P**" BrangeUcal and Inetitated worship 

*.• r 4. T> a A.' A. >t o i.x of our Qreat Redeemer, to which he kept a strict ad- 

satisfactory Kenection to me. Cotton . _ „ ui ^ n u Iw . v _» 

•^ , herenoe all his di^s. ... He began the laborious 

Mather's rank in the succession of this work ofa School Master at Newhaven, when he con- 
remarkable family, is doubtiess accurately tlna«d for twelve years ;" then at Ipewich, fh>m De- 
stated in the imagined epitaph of olden ?"**tL?^' *^''"' ^^' *^ Chariestown f^m 

^^ ^ '^ Not. 1661, nine years ; at Boston, flrom Jan. 6, 1670, 

^™^ ' thirty-eight years. "He died on Saturday morning, 

1 Life of Cotton Mather, by his Son, p. 8. This is Aug. 21, 1706, in the ninety-fourth year of Ids age, 

a work of 188 pages, 12mo., issued in 1729, with a after he liad been a skilful, painftal, Ikithftil SehPOl 

dedication to the University of Glasgow, a prefkos by master for ssraaty yean." 

Mr.Priiio«,andaUftofnibMxibtn. •Uh^^.L 




CoU^ MfflOhffr^ 



[^w?> 



dne tixnie '^ took hi9 aecond degree, re- 
ceiving it, kiB 8oa tells ub, *'from the 
hand of his father, who was then Presi- 
dent ; ^ the thesis which he maintained on 
that occasioD, was '^Puncta Hebraica 
sunt Oiiginjs Divine," — a matter, how- 
ever, in which he afterwards frankly 
admitted a change of views. 

He was early habituated to the idea of 
entering the ministry; it would have 
been strange iC coming of such a family, 
he had not But an obstacle, apparently 
insurmountable, **an uncommon impedi- 
ment in his speech,** forced him to aban- 
don his purpose. He began the study of 
Medicine, and had advanced to a consid- 
erable extent, when "that good old 
Schoolmaster, Mr. Corlet," made him a 
visit on purpose to advise him ; ** Sir,*' 
said Mr. Corlet, " I should be glad if you 
would oblige yourself to a dilated deliber- 
Qtian in speaking ; for as in Si];)ging, 
there is no one who Stammers, so by pro- 
longing your Pronunciation, you will get 
an Habit of speaking without Hesitation.**^ 
He followed this advice with perfect suc- 
cess, and, as soon as that success appeared, 
commenced the study of Theology, in 
which he bad so far progressed in 1680, 
that on the twenty-second of August, he 
preached his first sermon, in the pulpit in 
Dorchester, where, eleven years previous, 
his grandfather*s voice had been heard 
for the last time ; his subject, suggested 
by the profession he had abandoned, was 
" Christ the Physician of Souls,** fh)m the 
text in Luke, (iv: 18,) "He hath sent 
me to heal the broken hearted.*' 

Of his piety at that period there was 
no question. The sad and evil day had 
not then come to the churches, though 
casting its ominous shadow in advance, 
when it was held that an unregenerate 
man might properly be a minister of the 
word of God, and that inquiries as to his 

1 A statement in the same paragraph, that he was 
then leas than nineteen years of age, mnst be incor- 
rect ; that would make it in the year 1681, whereaa 
President Mather did not enter on bin office until 
1686. 

t IJfc,fco.,p.a6. 



personal reli^ous experience were an 
impertinence ; they felt that " if the blind 
lead the blind, both will fall into the 
ditch.'* But from childhood, he had given 
evidence of the renewing of the tloly 
Ghost He was a child of praying pa- 
rents; he had been given to God, and 
the promises of the covenant pleaded for 
him ; his infant lips had been taught to 
pray. There b satisfactory evidence that 
as early as hb fourteenth year he was a 
Christian, and hb religious exercises 
were much earlier still. He had even 
then begun his days of fasting and prayer ; 
had opened hb heart to hb father, and 
had been guided by him, in a manner 
most judicious for one so ardent and im- 
pulsive, to the true remedy for sin ; and 
thus, after no little depth of conviction of 
sin, had come to such a faith in Christ, as 
ever made the Saviour the soul of hb re- 
ligion and his preaching. When past 
sixteen, on the thirty-first of August, 
1679, he made a public profession of bis 
faith, and united with hb father's Church. 
About this period, he records how he set 
himself " upon the work of self-examina- 
tion ;*' its result illustrates the tone of hb 
piety at that period ; " I find," he says, 
"I. Concerning my faith. I am convinced 
of the utter Insufficiency in my own 
Righteousness to procure my Salvation. 
I see my own Righteousness to be noth- 
ing in point of acceptance with God. I 
see a woful Hypocrisy has actuated me. 
Sluggishness and Selfishness hath attended 
me, in the neglect of all my Services. I 
perceive now no other way for my Salva- 
tion, but only by the Lord Jesus Christ ; 
Refuge fails elsewhere on every Hand. I 
behold a Fulness and a Beauty in Jesus 
Christ ; He is worth loving, worth prais- 
ing, worth following. Such is my Desire 
to obtain an interest in Him, and make 
Him the only Portion and Support of my 
Soul, that it is one of my greatest Griefe, 
to find my Heart so dull in going forth 
afler Him. 

"U. Concerning my Repentance. I 
abhor sin, because it b abhorred by God 



1859.] 



(kiian Mather. 



9d7 



and contrary to Him. Sin is my heavy 
burden ; Death itself would be welcome 
to me to free me from such a Burden. I 
am heartily troubled for the sin in my 
Heart, and that fountain of Corruption, 
the Plague of my heart afflicts me. 

" ni. Concerning my Love. I long to 
see and know the Frame of God unto me ; 
the sight of That would make all my 
Afflictions light. I desire to be as active 
as may be in promoting the Honour of 
God ; and I seldom come into any Com- 
pany, without contriving, Whether I may 
not act or speak something for That in it, 
before I leave it I am sorry that I love 
God no more. The Saints, that have the 
image of God, are those whom I value 
most" This experience was not sudden ; 
it is recorded afler years of spiritual 
search. It was not unintelligent ; he was 
fitted for it by that thorough course of 
doctrinal instruction, which, though it be 
not understood at the time it is received, 
lies ready to be breathed upon by the 
Holy Spirit Better still, it was scrip- 
turally developed; he had been a dili- 
gent student of the Bible, reading, habit- 
ually, fifteen chapters a day. It was 
prayerful ; " when he began to speak, 
almost, he began to pray." It was the 
result of progressive steps; he had had 
"very frequent Returns of Doubts and 
Pears, and therefore resolutely and fre- 
quently renewed his Closure with Jesus 
Christ, as his only Relief against them." 
Under these circumstances, an intelligent 
Christian will hardly be prepared for a 
statement from one of his biographers,* 
that ** The language is certainly con- 
strained and excessive ; apparently not so 
much meant to express his feelings, as to 
state a standard to which his feelings 
must be brought to conform," — a remark 
which illustrates a fact explaining a large 
share of the systematic depreciation of 
Cotton Mather which this generation has 
witnessed, viz., the utter inability of most 
of his modern biographers to understand 
those deeper spiritual experiences of which 

1 IB Sperki' Amwrion Biognpliy, ?i : 177. 



their own hearts are ignorant They dis- 
tort his char^ter, because unable to ap- 
preciate its chief excellence. The piety 
which had its source in God, and whose 
outgushings appear on every page of his 
diary, is contemptuously passed by, as 
enthusiasm or weakness. His chief merit 
they make his shame. This is not to be 
wondered at ; " the natural man receiveth 
not the things of the Spirit of God, for 
they are foolishness unto him; neither 
can he know them, because they are 
spiritually discerned ;" and these " spirit- 
ual " " things " are equally " foolishness " 
to the " natural man," when seen in the 
lives of the children of God. But while 
not to be wondered at, it should be borne 
in mind by every 4)ne who desires a true 
appreciation of the character of such a 
Christian. 

On the 23d of February, 1680-1, 
the North Church * in Boston, gave 
him a unanimous invitation to become 
Assistant' to his father; it was a temporary 
service, without ordination ; he accepted 
the proposition, and continued in it, 
(though, in November 1681, the Church 
in New Haven invited him to become 
their pastor,) until, on the eighth of Jan- 
uary, 1682-3, the North Church unan- 
imously invited him to become Colleague 
Pastor. Afler great deliberation, and 
repeated days of fasting and prayer on 
the subject, he accepted, though with 
trembling; he was ordained May 13, 
1685, and then commenced a pastorate, 
which, af\er nearly half a century's con- 
tinuance, ended only with his death. 

The pastorate commencing under such 
favorable auspices, — over the Church of 
which he was a member, and which had 

t Now, and for a quarter of a oentary past, aDd«r 
the care of R«t. Dr. Chandler Robhins, in whose 
excellent history of the Second Choich, is an appre- 
ciative and heaatlfolly written sketch of Cotton 
Mather. It is greatly to be regretted that a more 
extended life should not come firom the same pen. 

s The author of the Life in Sparks* series, pro- 
ftsses inability to disoorer what that position was. 
Had the author read a little more caief^Uy, and 
ezerdsed a little more candor, his work would, per- 
hape, have been icfpecteble. 



236 



Cotton Mather. 



[July, 



known him from his infancy, and ander 
the guidance of his own father, was an 
eminently successful one. He took meas- 
ures to make it successful. The exalted 
opinion of the sacred office, which had 
led him so long to hesitate on its threshold, 
had also led him to thorough preparation 
of heart and matured plans of action. 
He kept days of fasting and prayer, with 
especial reference to his ordination. He 
renewed his closure with Christ. About 
this time, the subject of entire consecra- 
tion deeply engaged his attention, result- 
ing in a thorough submission of his soul to 
God. In one of his days of preparation, he 
covenanted with God " that he would, out 
of love to Him, undertake the work before 
him ; ... he then prohiised these things 
to the Lord : That he would endeavor to 
be a faithful pastor over whom he should 
be placed : That he would endeavor to 
be Humble under whatever Enlargement 
should be vouchsafed unto him : That if 
God should give him to build up His 
Church with an unspotted Reputation, he 
would endeavor to be contented with 
whatever State should be ordered for him 
in the World, though never so Poor and 
many other ways afflicted." This Cove- 
nant he kept ; and of its final pledge God 
gave him experience. 

Throughout his life. Cotton Mather was 
a deeply pious man. He never forgot the 
man in the minister. He did not neglect 
his own heart. The system of fastings 
which he commenced, he carried on. His 
son reckoned up four hundred and fifly 
such days ; and, in the latter part of his 
life, he observed a fast at least once a 
month, oflen once or twice a week. This 
may have been no merit : but as the re- 
sults of such seasons he enjoyed delightful 
communion with God ; his soul often melt- 
ed within him at manifestations of the 
divine mercy ; that he grew in grace by 
means of them, no Christian who reads 
his diary with an unbiassed mind, can 
doubt His daily life partook of the same 
spirit; it overflowed into prayer. As he 
walked the streetSi ejaculatory prayers 



were constantly ascencHng to God. His 
very meditations, instead of being nebu- 
lous reveries, partook of the energy and 
system of his nature ; having selected a 
theme, he considered it, first, doctrinally ; 
secondly, practically, by examination of 
himself in regard to it ; by expostulation 
with himself; and then, by new resolutions 
upon it, in " the strength of grace offered 
in the new Covenant." Such were his 
daily habits through life. Oflen, in the 
early days of his ministry, did he question 
his own heart, and reconsider his hope ; 
perhaps the character of his early expe- 
rience, in his inability to fix any definite 
time as that of his conversion, led him 
oflener to such examinations, which tend- 
ed to settle his confidence. On one such 
occasion, (in 1681,) he concludes thus : 
" O my dear Lord, thy Father hath com- 
mitted my soul unto thy hands ; there *s a 
Covenant of Redemption wherein I am 
concerned; I know my election by my 
vocation, and my concernment in that 
covenant by my being made willing to 
come under y« shadow of thy wings in the 
Covenant of Grace. Now in that Cove- 
nant, the Father said unto the Son, ^ Such 
an elect soul there is, that I will bring 
into thy fold, and thou shalt undertake 
for that soul, as a Sufficient and an Eter- 
nal Saviour.' Wherefore I am now in 
thy hands, O my Lord ; thy Father hath 
put me there : I have put myself there ; 
^O save me ; O heal me ; O work for me, 
work in me, the good pleasure of thy 
goodness." Some years afterwards, he 
writes : " I concluded with a triumphant 
hope that He would now delight in me, to 
do me good ; and that God would have 
no controversy with me ; and that 1 
should, afler a desirable manner, know 
Him, love Him, honor Him. Thus I 
should find my never-dying soul to be 
under the peculiar care of a loving and 
faithful Redeemer, in the times of the 
greatest extremities that shonld ever come 
upon me. Hencef(5rward, rejoice, O my 
soul, in thy Saviour." Thus his early 
doubts passed away. He gradually came 



1859.] 



CoUon Mdher. 



239 



into the fiill assurance of faith — not faith 
in himself — but faith in his Redeemer. 
When in the midst of his wonderful use- 
fulness, he says of all his plans for doing 
good, *^ I knew . . . that I could not buy 
off the guilt of any omission whatever ; I 
knew, I owned, that only the precious 
blood of the Lamb of God, signified any- 
thing to my soul." " I am willing to be 
anything that God will have me to be. 
O, how hath he broken my heart, and 
ground it, and pressed it into powder 
before Him." "I often compose little 
hymns," he says, while alone and medi- 
tating, which he would sing ; a fair speci- 
men of them, is this : 

•* glorious Christ of God, I ll?e 
In riew of Thee alone ; 
Life to my gasping soul, glre ; 
Shine Thou, or I'm undone. 

I cannot lire, mj Clod, if Thou 

Eoliv^nest not mj fidth ; 
I'm dead, I'm lost, saTe me now, 

From a lamented death. 

Mj glorious healer, thou restore 
Mj health, and make me whole ; 

But this is what I most deidre, 
Oh for a healed soul ! " 

Of the faithfulness and power of his 
public ministrations, ample evidence ex- 
ists. From the regular services of the 
Sabbath, and the weekly lecture, he would 
sometimes rise to the number of eleven 
successive days of preaching. Gifted 
with commanding personal appearance, 
with a delivery which, by severe disci- 
pline, had become impressive, his sermons 
well studied, his warm heart overflowing, 
his love of Christ pervading every exer- 
cise, — it needed not the reverence even 
then paid to the minister in his official 
character, to give him that immense influ- 
ence over his crowded congregation, which 
he preserved through life. The character 
of his congregation may be inferred from 
the fact that, at one time, sixteen of the 
young men of his own families were mem- 
bers of Harvard College ; while inciden- 
tal references in cotemporary documents 
show, that the men of station. Judges, Go- 
vernors, and the like, chose his Church in 
preference to others. 



The character of his preaching was 
doctrinal. It is interesting to notice the 
titles of the sermons with which he com- 
menced his ministry, not only as such, 
but because the tone of his preaching 
seems never to have been materially 
changed : ** Having laid aside my own 
thoughts of being a Physician^ he says, 
** my two first sermons were on y« Lord 
Jesus Christ as the physician of souls" 
The topics of the succeeding sermons, fol- 
lowing in order, are : " We want a Sa- 
viour." ** Jesus Christ is a mighty Sa- 
viour." He is "an only Saviour." He 
is " an oflfered Saviour." Christ " infal- 
libly bestowing salvation on the believer." 
" Works by which the HolJ^ Spirit pre- 
pares men for the Lord Jesus." " Elec- 
tion as the foundation of alL" " Prepara- 
tion, in generall." " Conviction." ** Con- 
trition." " Separation from sin." " On 
denial of one's own righteousness." " On 
denial of one's own strength." ** On de- 
nial of one's own will." And thus having 
" advanced the preparation of my hear- 
ers," *' gave a solemn invitation to Him." 
He then discoursed upon " Practical reli- 
gion"; "Trouble"; " Effectual calling " ; 
and the " New creature " ; and following 
these, upon topics naturally subsequent in 
a system of truth. The doctrinal charac- 
ter of his early preaching is thus apparent ; 
records show that in this respect he never 
changed. Not that he treated these topics 
in a dry and abstract way ; on the con- 
trary, they were the doctrines alive ; they 
could not be anything else ; for, in pre- 
paring his sermons, " on every Paragraph 
he made a pause, and endeavored with 
Acknowledgements and Ejaculations to 
Heaven, and with Self-Examinations, to 
feel some holy Impressions of the Truths 
in that Paragraph on his own Soul before 
he went any further. By means of this, 
the Seven hours which he usually took to 
Pen a Sermon, prov'd so many of Devo- 
tion with him. The Day in which he 
made a Sermon, left just such a Flavor 
on his Mind, as a Day of Prayer us*d to 
do." Thus preaching to himself, and thus 



240 Cotton Maker. [Jmr, 

embodjing the vital truths of the Grospel, sources of success : <* This I insist upon; 
his sermons came with a power which (and he described his own method,) That 
neither dry doctrinal statements, nor mere when you are to Preach, you should go 
exhortation, ever possess. That this the- directly from your Knees in your Study 
^ ory of preaching commended itself to him, to the Pulpit; and when you are thus on 
is evident from directions given, in the your Knees in your Study, you should be- 
years of his ripe experience, to persons wail the faulty Defects in your Life, which 
preparing for the ministry, in the Man- the Subject you are to treat upon should 
ductio ad ministeriumj a work well de- lead you to a Penitent Confession of: 
serving to be republished ; and which ex- Humbly bewailing it also, that your Ser- 
presses his own metho(]s. Preach " well mon is no better fitted for the awful Ser- 
studied sermons," he says. Bring "beaten vice that is before you." He went also to 
oil " into the sanctuary : and this he did the root of the matter : ** Consider your- 
in the height of his literary labors. ** Your self as a dying person, and one that must 
sermon must also be such that you may shortly put ofi* this Earthly Tabernacle ; " 
hope to have the Blood of your Savioub " begin to live," living unto God, " the 
sprinkled on it, and his Good Spirit Service of the Glorious God." It was be- 
breathing on it" ** Go through the whole cause actuated by such motives, that he 
Body of Divinity," — at the same time, copied into his Bible, for daily use, the 
attending to the ** necessities of the Peo- solemn charge his father gave him at his 
pie." His doctrinal preaching had its ordination ; that he never composed a ser- 
centre : ** Exhibit as much as you can," mon until after fervent prayer, and care- 
he urges, " of a glorious Christ unto ful study ; that in all cases when at a loss 
them : yea, let the Motto upon your whole for a text, he would make a prayer to the 
Ministry be, Christ is all." " I make no Holy Spirit for direction and assistance, 
doubt of it," he says, in language applica- " as well to find a text, as to handle it," — 
ble now as then, " that the almost Epi- ** which seems " says the author in Sparks' 
demical Extinction of True Christianity, Series, with his accustomed ignorance of 
or what is little short of it, in the Na- the springs of divine life, " to be carrying 
tions that profess it, is very much owing the principle of dependence quite as far 
to the inexcusable Impiety of overlook- as it should go," but which the true be- 
ing a glorious Christ so much in the liever in prayer will recognize as a sim- 
Empty Harangues, which often pass for pie element of childlike trust ; and that 
Sermons." " What I wish for, and urge, his sermons were prayerful, scriptural, 
is this : That your knowledge of the Mys- systematic and pungent " The vital ac- 
tery of Christ may conspicuously shine tivity of the graces of Christ inspired into 
in your Sermons ; and that it may be es- the souls of men," says Prince, " and the 
teemed by you, as a Matchless Grace manner of turning and living to God, 
given unto you, if you may Preach the were the continued themes of his preach- 
Unsearchable Riches of Christ unto the ing, conversing and writing." He was. 
World. The Heavens do Praise that declares the same witness, " a son of thun- 
Wonder, the Angels in the Heavens are der to impenitent sinners, ... a son of 
swallowed up in the Praises of that Won- consolation to discouraged souls, ... a 
drous One ! Be, like them, never so passionate pleader with all to come into 
much in your Element as when the Per- the acceptance of Christ, and into the life 
son, the Offices, the Benefits, the Exam- and favor of God, ... a fervent soliciter 
pie, the Abasement, and Advancement of at the throne of grace." Such labors were 
a Glorious Christ, are the subjects of blessed. In the first year of his ministry, 
your Sermons." over thirty souls were given to him as 
With such subjects, he understood the the seals of his ministry. How much of 



1859.] 



Goitott Mather. 



241 



the after success of his Church is to be 
assigned to him rather than to his father, 
it is, of course, impossible to tell ; but 
during the ministry of both, over eleven 
hundred persons united with their Church 
upon profession of their faith in Christ ; 
he had, as well during the absence, as 
presence, of his father, the largest congre- 
gation in New England, embracing in 
Church fellowship nearly or quite four 
hundred members, while there were six 
other churches existing in Boston at this 
date — the commencement of the last cen- 
tury ; when, owing to the crowded state 
of his congregation, he endeavored to 
have a new Church formed " across the 
water," out of his own, and offered to re- 
lease part of his salary to help on such an 
enterprise, the attachment of his people 
prevented the desired result ; and, in 
1713, when the New North was formed, 
its " swarming" from his own Church was 
rendered absolutely necessarj', by the 
crowded state of the meeting-house.* 

Cotton Mather was, undoubtedly, an 
" old " and a " consistent " Calvinist The 
topics of sermons already referred to, prove 
him a Calvinist ; that he was an ** old " 
Calvinist, in the phrase now used to dis- 
tinguish the Calvinism of our fathers from 
the Calvinism, not changed, but defined, 
by President Edwards, and especially 
from the modified Calvinism held by some 
succeeding writers, is to be expected from 
his living in a time prior to such changes, 
and is fully seen in his own writings. 
The Westminster Assembly's Shorter Cat- 
echism, " composed," as he says, by " Dr. 
Tuckney, Dr. Arrowsmith, and Mr. New- 
comen," he fully and heartily accepted ; 
the only changes he would make were 
additions ; the answer to the nineteenth 
question, relating to the " miser}' of that 
estate whereinto Man fell," he wished to 
strengthen by appending, " and enslaved 
into the power of darkness " ; to the de- 
scription of Christ's office as a Priest, 

1 Th« author in Sparks* Series, attributes, of 
eourie, wrong motiTes to Ootton Blather in his action 
regarding this tranMotioD. 

VOL. X. dl 



(twentieth,) he would add, "in performing 
perfect obedience to the law of God, the 
everlasting rule of Righteousness"; and 
he would find another benefit accompany- 
ing Justification, in ^* the ministry of good^ 
angels for our good, and succor against 
the temptations of the DeviL" Where 
Calvinists of various shades now agree, he 
would have agreed with them; where 
they differ, he would have held to the 
" actual native depravity," rather than to 
a sinless *^ proclivity to sin "; to the actual 
helplessness of human nature in such a 
state, rather than to any " power of con- 
trary choice," — although his sermons show 
that the inability of the sinner was not, in 
his mind, a ** physical " inability, in the 
obnoxious sense of that term, but a " moral 
inability," — reckoning a " moral inability" 
none the less *^ real " because it resides 
in the ** moral " nature, and all the more 
"guilty" because "real"; to the exist- 
ence of sin in the nature, and a denial 
that " all sin consists in action," even if 
he took no exception to a phrase which, if 
not ambiguous, is faulty in construction ; 
to the view that Christ's sufferings were 
penal, in the sense of the old theologians, 
that " punishment " was " suffering en- 
dured on account of sins," rather than 
suffering apart from the infliction of jus- 
tice ; to the legal title of the believer to 
eternal life, by the mysterious union be- 
tween Christ and the believer — Christ 
taking the sins of the latter, and of right 
bearing them, and imparting to the be- 
liever the benefit of his own perfect right- 
eousness — as when the husband, legally, 
is held for the prior debts of the wife, and 
is bound for her future support And in 
this last point, did the theology of Cotton 
Mather centre : man a helpless sinner, 
Christ an entire Saviour — in the literal 
meaning, demands, and consequences of 
these terms. Hence, in his sermons, he 
dwelt much on the condemnation of the 
sinner, and the vicarious sacrifice of Christ ; 
of the helplessness of the sinner, and 
the strength of Christ ; of the deadness of 
the sinner, and of spiritual life through 



242 



Cotton Mather. 



[July, 



Christ ; and these truths he held in their 
simple and obvious meanings. 

These doctrines he preached ; and with 
what results we have already seen. His 
sermons were learned, too learned some- 
times ; but all his learning he made trib- 
utary to the great object of preaching. 
His sermons were strong and thorough. 
In this they corresponded with the style 
of the old Calvinists. If the preaching of 
that day were reproduced, few modern 
audiences could understand it; were it 
demanded, few modem preachers could 
equal it in depth and power. In matters 
of taste, and in a more brilliant rhetoric, 
the present may surpass the past; in 
strength, learning, massiveness of struc- 
ture, the New England pulpit does not 
equal what it was a century and a half 
■ ago. The ability which was popular in 
that day furnished the steady light of 
truth ; the ability which is popular in this 
day, is that of pyrotechnic display. The 
former was enduring ; the latter goes out 
when the show is over. 

Cotton Mather*s influence, through his 
power in the pulpit, was greatly heightened 
by his care for his people, out of the pul- 
pit " He thought it his duty to visit the 
families belonging to his Church." One, 
and sometimes two, afternoons in a week 
he devoted to that purpose. The pastoral 
visiting of that day is well illustrated by 
his manner of performing it. His visit, 
of which he had previously notified each 
family, was scrupulously restricted to spi- 
ritual matters, and was conducted in the 
most formal style ; the " elder people " 
were first reminded of their duties, as to 
family prayer, the instruction of children, 
the care of servants, or other similar sub- 
jects; then, in order, the children and 
servants were catechised, or had the duties 
of secret prayer set before them, or of read- 
ing the Scriptures, or of filial obedience, 
or received explanations of the doctrines 
of religion. Prayer was an invariable ac- 
companiment of these exercises; solemn 
questions were oflen lefl upon the mind ; 
personal salvation was particularly urged ; 



*' and many other such Methods he took 
for the Winning of Souls in this Discharge 
of his Ministry ; And he enjoyed a most 
wonderful Presence of God with him in 
this undertaking ; and seldom lefl a Fa- 
mily without Tears dropt by several in it." 
The warm affection of his kindly nature 
made even a formal routine alive. Nor 
did that "love to his Church" which 
'* was very flaming," exhaust itself with 
these exercises ; his rule was, never to let 
even an occasional interview with one of 
his people end, without some word of reli- 
gious purport ; books, selected with care- 
ful purpose, he systematically put into the 
hands of his people. Nor did his love 
stop here ; he carried the souls of his peo- 
ple to his closet ; not only in every case 
which touched peculiar sympathies, but, 
at stated times, a whole day, with strict 
fasting, he occupied, with the roll of his 
Church before him, in praying for each 
member by name, and asking Grod to ena- 
ble him, with discriminating care, to 
meet the wants of each. This he did, not 
merely in the enthusiasm of impulsive 
youth, but when that enthusiasm had so- 
bered into a strong and steady energy ; 
and it was not neglected even in the days 
when his name had become distinguished 
at home and abroad. He felt " the un- 
speakable Worth of their Souls." " Slan- 
der itself, with all its boldness," says Rev. 
Dr. Robbins, " has not ventured to cast a 
reproach upon the sincerity of his pastoral 
affection, or the fidelity of his ministerial 
services." ^ 

Cotton Mather's faithfulness was repaid 
by the affection of his people. They were 
proud of his talents, they reverenced his 
virtues, they felt his faithfulness. No 
calumnies — for calumnies came in his own 
life-time — seem to have weakened, in the 
least, their love. The slight, but signifi- 
cant tokens of their regard, were frequent. 
To his appeals for charitable contribu- 
tions, they were alive ; in one year con- 
tributing £62 for redeeming captives from 
the Indians, £53 for redeeming two per- 
1 Hilt. S«ooD(l Chazch, p. 80. ^ 



1859.] 



CoUon Mxiher. 



243 



sons from the Turks, £80 for relieving 
three young men from ^e same, £44 for re- 
lief of poor inhabitants of frontier Eastern 
towns, £53 on Fastrday, for the poor, and 
£60 at Thanksgiving, for propagating the 
Gospel; in all, £352. More than once 
his people came forward to pay the debts 
which he had incurred through connection 
with others ; and when his wife died, they 
built a " costly tomb." 

The personal character of Cotton Ma- 
ther was such as to win regard. His mo- 
rality is untarnished. In his domestic re- 
lations, his affectionate nature shone with 
peculiar excellence. Between himself 
and his father was the most endearing in- 
tercourse. Associated in the ministry, no 
jar ever disturbed those hallowed ties. 
He was always respectful and courteous, 
although traces of the influence of the 
younger over the elder are clearly dis- 
cernible. His love to him was unbounded. 
They were like brothers, save that the 
father received a gentle reverence from 
the son. When the venerable parent 
was, in a ri|>e old age, drawing near to 
the grave, seldom a day passed without 
personal intercourse, in which the voices 
that had alternated in the house of God 
for more than forty years, loved to talk of 
heavenly things. It is pleasant to read 
of those interviews between the departing 
saint and the reverent son. ** Concerning 
my son, Cotton Mather," said the father 
in his will,^ ** he has been a great comfort 
to me from his childhood, having been a 
very dutiful son, and a singular blessing 
to his father's family and flock." As a 
father, this son was kind ; he made his 
children feel that he loved them. He 
did not keep ** himself at an haughty dis- 
tance from them," says his son, '* but in- 
variably condescended to them with a 
gentle and proper familiarity. Thus," he 
adds, ** he would instruct and edify, thus 
allure and charm us ; thus make us love 
his society, ever come into it with delight, 
and never leave it, but with sorrow." 
The punishment they dreaded most, was 
1 HIM. SMond Choveb, pp. 212-li. 



to be sent away frt)m his presence. He 
never neglected his family ; he was their 
instructor, their guide, their friend. As 
alluring was he, also, to others. Instead 
of the crabbed, sour aspect, laboriously 
attributed to Cotton Mather, it is well 
authenticated that the charm of his social 
manner was irresistible. Says his col- 
league, Rev. Joshua Gee, ** he was pious 
without pretence, serious without morose- 
ness, grave but not austere, afiable with- 
out meanness, and facetious without levity. 
He was peaceable in his temper, .... 
catholic in his charity, abundant in his 
liberality, and obliging to strangers, though 
often ill-requited." ** His printed works," 
says Dr. Colman, '* will not convey to 
posterity, nor give to strangers, a just idea 
of the real worth and great learning of 
the man. ... It was conversation, and 
acquaintance with him in his familiar and 
occasional discourses and private commu- 
nications, that discovered the vast com- 
pass of his knowledge, and the projections 
of his piety, more, I have sometimes 
thought, than all his pulpit exercises. 
Here he excelled. . . . Here it was seen 
how his wit and fancy, his invention, his 
quickness of thought and ready appre- 
hension, were all consecrated to God, as 
well as his heart, will and aflections ; and, 
out of his abundance within, his lips over- 
flowed, dropped as the honeycomb, fed all 
that came near him, and were as the 
choice silver for richness and brightness, 
pleasure and profit" 

The predominant characteristic of Cot- 
ton Mather, was, undoubtedly, a desire to 
be useful. ** The Ambition and Charac- 
ter of my Father's life," truly said his son, 
** was Serviceableness." " What good 
shall I do," was the subject of his daily 
thoughts, even from childhood. He evi- 
dently acquired this bent of disposition 
from his father's judicious moulding ; his 
father's dying desire for him, was, that he 
might ** do good while he lived, and glo- 
rify Christ in his death." His diary illus- 
trates, though it does not do full justice to, 
his character in this particular. All his 



244 



(Mofi Mother. 



[Jolt, 



plans aimed to accomplish someUiing. He 
was not a minister, for the sake of being a 
minister, but for doing something for 
Christ. He did not write sermons for the 
sake of sermons, nor did he preach, Sab- 
bath by Sabbath, for the sake of duty, 
but he wrote and preached that by ser- 
mons and Sabbath duties, he might win 
souls. He was constantly devising plans 
of usefulness. Many of these are record- 
ed, as day by day, he wrote down his pur- 
poses and their accomplishment He asks 
himself what good iie can do to various 
classes; now, (and the following are se- 
lected at random as we turn to various 
places in his diary,) — candidates for the 
ministry ; again, his father ; or, his *^ ser- 
vants"; "a nurse" in his family; " a fam- 
ily likely to be broken in pieces"; "a 
widow " ; "a drunken creature " near by ; 
his "father-in-law." At one time, he 
preaches to widows, who then (in 1718) 
formed one fiflh of all his communicants. 
" Let me write something that may do 
good unto young people when I am gone," 
he says in 1681. Oflen he preached to 
the poor and old in the almshouse. " Here 
is an old Hawker," he says, in 1683, " who 
will fill the country with devout and use- 
ful Books, if I will direct him. I will 
therefore direct and assist him, as far as I 
can, in doing so." In 1683, he established 
a " young people's prayer-meeting," which 
so prospered as to be, of necessity, divided 
territorially, and which continued for 
years ; indeed he, throughout life, retained 
his interest in the young, and was beloved 
by them ; repeatedly they asked for the 
publication of sermons addressed to them ; 
at one time they observed a day of special 
thanksgiving for himself and his father ; 
his " Token for the Children in New Eng- 
land " was published at their desire ; in 
1724, only four years before his death, 
nearly a hundred " little damsels " attend- 
ed his catechetical exercise, a conclusive 
proof— unless " little damsels " were then 
under stricter government than they are 
now— of the afiection which led them to 
group around a pastor over sixty years of 



age; and a touching evidence of the 
faithfulness of one who, with a reputation 
then European, and with a life crowded 
with care, loved to teach the children of 
his people. 

His method of usefulness illustrates also 
his character. Every morning had its 
regular question : on the Sabbath, What 
shall 1 do, as a pastor of a Church, for the 
good of the flock under my charge ? On 
Monday, What shall 1 do in my family, 
and for the good of it? On Tuesday, 
What shall I do for my relations abroad, 
or. What shall I do for enemies? On 
Wednesday, What shall I do for the 
churches of the Lord, and the more gen- 
eral interests of religion in the world? 
On Thursday, What good may I do in 
the several societies to which I am related ? 
or. Is there any particular person able to 
do good which lies out of my more imme- 
diate reach, to whom I may offer some 
good proposals ? On Friday, What spe- 
cial subjects of affliction, and objects of 
compassion, may I take under my particu- 
lar care, and what shall I do for them ? 
On Saturday, What more have I to do 
for the interest of Grod in my own heart 
and life ? These were his specific ques- 
tions, morning afler morning, for years, 
while dressing ; as soon as he entered his 
study, the results of his thoughts were en- 
tered in his " Book of hints to be spoken 
or done ; " and, by his rigidly s^^stematic 
division of time, he accomplished liis pur- 
poses. 

Among the more public methods of 
usefulness designed by Cotton Mather, 
some deserve particular mention. Per- 
ceiving the ignorant and neglected condi- 
tion of the negroes in Boston, he established 
a school for them, engaged a teacher, and, 
for years, supported it at his sole expense. 
The Concert of Prayer, supposed to be a 
recent plan, had its American origin with 
Cotton Mather, in his establishing, (copy- 
ing it from an observance in England,) a 
prayer-meeting for all Christians from 1 1 
to 12 o'clock, A. M., of every Monday, in 
which many churches were led to engage. 



1859.] 



Cotton Mather, 



245 



The power of organization to promote 
works of Christian benevolence, if not 
originated by, yet had its vitality from, 
him. He was an active member of over 
twenty such societies, of the most of 
which, perhaps all, he was the founder. 
One was a plan for aiding feeble par- 
ishes in building churches, to which his 
own and some other churches largely 
contributed, — the predecessor of our own 
Union. He originated a society for send- 
ing the gospel to the heathen, in which, 
although practically restricted to the In- 
dian tribes, his own large heart contem- 
plated the " poor Greeks, Armenians, and 
Muscovites," — the forerunner of a work 
whose fulfillment shows him to have been 
a centur)' before his age. Another society 
so formed was one to distribute tracts or 
books, and he repeatedly gave away over 
a thousand volumes in a year, — a system 
which has covered our country with a 
sound and saving literature, since renewed 
a quarter of a century ago. A society 
for benefitting seamen, another for the 
distribution of Bibles, and another for 
establishing religious charity schools, are 
as familiar to us as they were new to 
Cotton Mather. Young Men*s Christian 
Associations are now characterized as a 
new feature of Christian progress, but 
they were formed, substantially in their 
present shape, by this servant of God ; he 
calls them " Societies of Young Men 
Associated," describes them in all essen- 
tial features like those of the present day, 
and declares their success ; '* these, duly 
managed," he says, "have been incom- 
parable Nurseries to the churches, where 
the faithful Pastors have countenanced 
them. Young men are hereby preserved 
from very many Temptations, rescued 
from the Paths of the Destroyer, Con- 
firmed in the right usages of the Lord, 
and Prepared mightily for such Religious 
Exercises as will be expected of them 
when they come to be themselves House- 
holders ;" the very system which he drew 
up for the conducting of these meetings, 
would searce be felt an innovation if fol- 



lowed to-day ; and the plan so far suc- 
ceeded, that a division became necessary, 
in the Boston of 1710. Thus, in organiz- 
ing such societies as those which are now 
the almoners of the churches, we are fol- 
lowing an old track. They were then in 
successful operation ; and it is a wonder- 
ful and mournful exhibit of the blight 
which swept over the churches in the last 
century, that their very name was lost, and 
their existence is now exhumed as a relic 
of a by-gone age. They are the ruined 
cities, fallen temples, and shattered statues 
of an extinct civilization, whose very 
authors were forgotten in the occupancy 
of the succeeding race. 

One of the best of the works of Cotton 
Mather is worthy of notice as bearing 
upon this subject It is a book of 109 
pages, 18mo., first published in 1710, 
republished in a mangled shape, in 1807, 
and again restored, in 1845, by the Mas- 
sachusetts Sabbath School Society. It is 
entitled, 

Bonifacius. 

AN ESSAY 

upon the GOOD that is to be 

Devised and Designed by THOSE 

Who Desire to Answer the Great END 

of Zt/tf, and to DO GOOD 

While they Live. 

This book is full of minute practical 
suggestions, upon the question ** What 
may I do for the service of God and the 
Welfare of man V" In answer, he is, first, 
to attend " to his own heart and life." 
Then, ** let every one consider the Rela- 
tions wherein the Sovereign God has 
placed him." These he takes in the fol- 
lowing order : 1, Conjugal ; 2, Parental ; 
3, that of Master and Servant ; 4, that of 
Neighbour, in which he specifies, as de- 
sirable, private religious meetings, neigh- 
bourhood associations, societies of young 
people, and the like ; and in connection 
with that, he speaks of meetings of" young 
men associated." Proceeding to more 
public ways of doing good, he addresses, 
first, ministersi then schoohuasters, church- 



^46 



Cotton Mather. 



[July, 



es, magistrates, ph}rsicians, rich men, 
elders and deacons, Representatives in 
the provincial Legislature, constables, 
tything men, military commanders, ship- 
masters, lawyers and judges, — suggesting, 
in detail, plans for usefulness which were 
evidently the results of his mature expe- 
rience. In the preface to this work, he 
says, that ** He is very strongly persuaded 
There is a Day very near at hand, when 
Books of such a Tendency as this will be 
the most welcome Things imaginable to 
many Thousands of Readers, and have 
more than one edition." Ue was correct 
Its author seemed also, with prophetic 
glance, to perceive now existing schemes : 
"A vast Variety of new Wayes to do 
Good will be hit upon : Paths which no 
Fowl of the Best Flight at Noble Designs 
has yet known ; and which the Vulture's 
most Piercing Eye has never passed." 
But this little book itself is perpetuated 
in American prosperity; it helped form 
the character of one of the men who left 
the deepest mark of his moulding on the 
character of this country ; it was Benja- 
min Franklin. " When I was a boy," 
writes that distinguished man to Samuel 
Mather, " I met with a book entitled, 
* Essays to do Good,* which I think was 
written by your father. It had been so 
little regarded by its former possessor that 
several leaves of it were torn out, but the 
remainder gave me such a turn of think- 
ing, as to have an influence upon my 
conduct through life ; for I have always 
set a greater value on the character of a 
doer of good, than on any other kind of 
reputation ; and if I have been, as you 
seem to think, a useful citizen, the public 
owes all the advantage of it to that book." 
It is unnecessary to enter into minute 
detail regarding Cotton Mather's literary 
character. His published works, amount- 
ing, says his son, to three hundred and 
eighty-three, will best illustrate his uni- 
versal learning, although they may be 
inadequate, as Colman declares, to pre- 
sent a just idea of the man. Blessed 
with what his son calls *' a modest inquis- 



itiveness," and with " a great capacity for 
learning," he could grasp the contents of 
a book while ordinary readers had hardly 
entered upon it. His insatiable thirst for 
knowledge, and a wonderfully retentive 
memory, made him, eventually, the first 
scholar of New England. While, from 
his peculiar training, Greek and Latin 
were to him as his mother tongue, he 
made himself master of the French and 
Spanish languages, that he might write 
treatises in them, and in his forty-fiflh 
year, he " conquered the Iroquois Indian,** 
in which he published works for the 
instruction of the natives. In his studies 
he evidently traversed the whole range of 
literature. The Rev. Joshua Gee speaks 
of " The capacity of his mind ; the readi- 
ness of his wit ; the vastness of his read- 
ing; the strength of his memory; the 
variety and treasure of his learning, in 
printed works, and in manuscripts which 
contain a much greater share," in addi- 
tion to "the pplendor of virtues which 
from the abundant grace of God within him 
shone out in the constant tenor of a most 
entertaining and profitable conversation." 
And Dr. Chauncy testifies that there were 
hardly any books in existence with which 
Cotton Mather was unacquainted. His 
own library numbered, in 1 700, " several 
thousands of books." 

The very extent of Cotton Mather's 
learning, occasioned the chief defect in 
his writings. His mind was filled with 
accumulated materials, of which a proper 
assimilation, was, in the hurry of his life, 
and the constant use of his knowledge, 
impossible. The reader of his works is 
astonished at the immense learning which 
they display ; but the clearness, strength, 
and vigor, of the framework, will make 
him regret that the author did not know 
less, or wish that he had found time 
to train, more carefully, the remarkable 
abilities which he plainly exhibits. He 
uses his knowledge in its crude state, 
always pouring it out in a flood on ever}' 
subject which occupied his pen. The 
style, too, is oflen encumbered with puns. 



1859.] 



Cotton Mather. 



247 



anagrams, and far-fetched conceits ; it is 
loaded with long and tiresome quotations 
from Latin and Greek ; it struggles under 
heaps of ancient history, or classic mythol- 
ogy. But it is not always so ; sometimes 
he rises with his subject above the style 
of his age ; he ascends into a purer atmos- 
phere, and writes plain, clear, common- 
sense English. His Essays to do Good, 
furnish evidences of the latter: the for- 
mer is seen in much of the Magnalia,^ a 

1 Thia work wu published in England in 1702 ; 
the flnt edition was a folio, of 790 pages, of which 
the upper part of the title page reads thus : 

Magnolia ChrUti Americana ; 

OR, THI 

CccIe0ta0ticaI J^tstorg 

or 
NEW ENGLAND. 

FROM 

It! first Planting in the year 1620, unto the year 
ofour Lord, 1698. 

It is diTided into seren books, embracing respec- 
tiTely, the antiquities, lives of the GoTernors, liTes of 
Divines, history of the University, acts of Synods 
and other ecclesiastical matters, mercies and provi- 
dences, and the works of the Lord, and an appendix 
contains the remarkable occurrences in the Indian 
War of 1688-'98. No work has been more abused 
by antiquarians than this, and none more habitually 
followed by the same individuals. While certainly 
deficient, and occasionally erroneous, nothing else 
could be expected when a work suflBcient for a life- 
time was dispatched in a few years ; and with all its 
faultji, it is the storehouse of MaMsaohusetts history. 
Men may abuse, but they mu^t uw it. 

** Cotton Mather himself says," (we quote from Dr. 
Robbins' history,) ^' he does not wonder that there 
were some who disliked and abused the Magnalia, 
because it was written to serve the interests of real, 
solid, vital piety, rather than a fornutl religion ; and 
because, showing the virtues of the Non-conformists, 
it of course set in a strong light, the persecuting 
spirit from which they suffered/' *' There is a good 
deal of point in such remarks as the following," in 
allufdon to some of John Oldmizon's strictures, in a 
work called '' The English Empire in America :" 
*' The accusers," says Mather, '' would have it be- 
lieved that the Church history is very trivial in the 
matter of it. Yes, by all means ! The marvelloua 
works of God in producing and maintaining and 
afflicting and relieving of colonies in a matchless 
manner, formed upon the ttoble intentions of pure 
and undefiled religion, and the bright patterns of 
living up to it, seen in tht^ liven of such men, and as 
choice material!) as a Church History can be com- 
posed of, these are trivial matters ! Come, then, let 
us go to master Oldmixon for important matters. It 
is a trouble unto me to descend unto anything lo 
ludicrous ; bat it is he, and not I, that most anf w«r 



chaotic mass of crude materials of New 
England history, although even in that 
are passages of such excelleiice that Gra- 
ham declared it to be the most interesting 
work the literature of the country had 
produced, and that many of its biographi- 
cal parts are superior to Plutarch.' 

Of these three hundred and eighty- 
three works, (two of which were pub- 
lished afler his death,) his son gives a 
list.' He began to publish in 1686, one 
or two only being issued in each ot sev- 
eral years, but the number rising to eight 
or ten a year, and once as high as six- 
teen. No after year of his life passed 
without a publication. Many of these 
works are sermons, funeral discourses, or 
tracts, suggested by now obsolete, but 
then engrossing occurrences, and hence 
are short. But with all the abatement 
due to this fact, his remarkable fertility 
puts to the blush men of ordinary indus- 
try. Some were works of size and value. 



fbr it. In his history, wherein he rails at ours, you 
shall find whole pages consecrated unto long, long, 
tiresome relations of some that he tingles out as the 
more curious events ; he calls 'em so. These ourloui 
events are, ' that a couple of starved Indians (at Hud- 
son's Bay) went a-flshing,— and then a-hunting, — 
and met with only two n^ooee, — and how 'twas, — and 
how, the geese flying away to the southward in Octo- 
ber, the people there [such their ^sagacity !] knew 
that hard weather was approaching; — and in No- 
vember [oh, mHrvellou!*!] it snowed. And then,— a 
locg tedious narrative, how they catched partridges, 
[not woodcocks !] yea [an exploit that should be told 
unto ftiture generations], four men, in a week's 
time, killed six and twenty. And then [a terrible 
thing happened, as much to be remembered as the 
Sicilian earthquakes] in December, a boy had hia 
fret hurt with the fttwt.' And an hundred more 
such curious events is this history set off withal. 
These, it seems, are the important matters that are 
most worthy of a room in history. A Church Hia- 
tory, furnished as aforesaid, has only tririal matters 
for you'." 

s The gratitude due to Cotton Mather fh>m every 
one who holds in esteem the memory of the early 
worthies of New England, may be seen in the fkot 
that, by the year 1718. he had published the lives of 
no less than one hundred and fourteen men, and 
twenty women, and that subsequent years increased 
the list. One of his beet biographical works is hii 
life of his fkther, the venerable Increase Mather, — 
whoM memory will be, by and by, commemorated 
in these pages. 

s life, &o., p. 161-178. 



248 



Cation Mather. 



[Jtot, 



In addition to the Magnalia, the Manu- 
ductio ad ministeriun^ and the Essays to 
do Good, the most valaable were his 
Christian Philosopher, and his Ratio 
Disciplines Fratrum Nov^Anglorum, The 
former is an excellent work, of a popular 
cast, in which he arranges the facts of the 
natural sciences in a way to present in a 
strong light the goodness and power of 
God. The latter is a work exhibiting 
the order of the churches of New Eng- 
land, and is a clear, able, systematic ex- 
hibit of Congregational usages, not only 
at that period, but as practised at present 
While the author of as good a treatise 
upon our Church polity as ever has been 
written, and one which embodies all the 
minute details which everybody wants to 
know, but which few writers furnish, — it 
b proper to say that whatever leaning 
there may be in our polity towards Pres- 
byterian ways, including the Consociation 
system of Connecticut, that leaning is due 
to Cotton Mather ; this will be explained, 
however, farther on. 

The work of Cotton Mather on which 
the labor of his life was bestowed, was 
never published ; still in manuscript, it is 
in the ownership of the Massachusetts 
Historical Society. It is entitled, Bihlia 
Americana^ and consists mainly of com- 
ments and illustrations upon the Scrip- 
tures. It occupies six volumes, near folio 
size, and comprising hundreds of pages. 
Prefixed to the commentary as such, are, 
first, a chronological arrangement of the 
Old Testament; secondly, a " harmony " 
of the New Testament ; thirdly, an ac- 
count of the division of the Bible in chap- 
ters and verses, with tables of the num- 
bers and position of each ; and fourtlily, 
an essay on the old chronology, with 
arguments to remove apparent discrepan- 
cies. The comments, which occupy all 
except a portion of the first volume, were 
accumulated by daily study and writing, 
and commencing in his thirty-first year, 
were the work of his life.^ The appear- 

1 «< llaDascilpts, when a man writes eTeiy day, 
•T«n thoagh he writee bat little, aooumulate. Dr. 



ance of the manuscript indicates that 
blank leaves were assigned to the various 
books of the Bible, and that he entered in 
their appropriate place such thoughts of 
his own, or comments of others, or illus- 
trations from any and every source, as 
occurred to him. Hence some parts are 
crowded, while others pass without notice. 
It is, in reality, the unfinished plan of a 
work of immense labor, knowledge, and 
research. So far as learning goes, it is 
probably without an equal among com- 
mentaries; while its practical value to 
ordinary students would be but slight 

That Cotton Mather's abilities were 
appreciated in his own home, has already 
been seen. It was not many years before 
his fame as a man of letters crossed the 
Atlantic, and gained him the fellowship 
of other learned men. He had a *^ numer- 
ous and extensive correspondence " with 
Europeans, at one time having on his list 
over fifty men of education. Quite a 
number of these were Scotch divines, to 
whom he was drawn by theological sym- 
pathies ; and Danish missionaries, in whose 
efforts his own heart was deeply engaged. 
Of others, it is to be regretted that his 
son preserved the names of only a few 
living at the time of his own writing ; 
among them were Lord Chancellor King, 
Sir Richard Blackmore, Mr. Whiston, of 
mathematical celebrity, and Dr. Franck- 
ius, of Halle. It is a greater proof, per- 
haps, of his foreign reputation, that in his 
forty-seventh year, (1710,) the University 
of Glasgow conferred upon him the then 
distinguished honor of the Doctorate in 
Divinity' ; " the high value the University 
sets upon you," wrote the Yice-Chancellor, 

Jobnmn was once asked bow it was that the Chrie- 
tian Fathers, and the men of other times, could find 
leisure to fill so many folios with the prodactions of 
their pens. * Nothing is easier,' said he ; and he at 
once began a calculation to show what would be the 
effect in the ordinary term of a man's life, if be wrote 
only one octaTO page in a day ; and the question was 

BolTed In this manner, manuscripts bare 

accumulated on my hands until I have been sur- 
prised to find that by this slow and steady process, I 
bare been enabled to prepare eleven volumes on the 
New Testament, and five on portions of the Old Tce- 
tamant."— i2«v. Albtrt Bamu^ ^^ Lift at Thru Scort.^^ 



1859] 



OoUon Mather. 



249 



** I hope you will no longer doubt, when 
I tell you that they have confer'd the 
highest Academical Degree upon You, 
the Doctorate in Divinity ; which I am 
persuaded is but what you deserve." 
And, three years later, he was chosen a 
Fellow of the Royal Society in London. 
His name is the first on the list of the 
graduates of Harvard College to receive 
the latter honor, and the third bearing 
the former, — Benjamin Woodbridge and 
Increase Mather being the predecessors. 

That Cotton Mather, in the midst of a 
faithful performance of his first, his par- 
ochial, duties, should find time to issue so 
many books, and accumulate such a mass 
of manuscripts, was owing to his untiring 
industry. His division of time was rigidly 
systematic ; no moment was suffered to be 
lost It is a matter of surprise how he 
could endure the rigidity of a system of 
study to which his stern sense of duty had 
trained his impetuous nature. In fact, in 
reading his diary, or his son's account of 
his daily life, we long for more elasticity. 
We feel that had he left his study oftener, 
and been more with men, in spite, if need 
be, of the artificial sanctity then setting 
the minister apart from others, it had been 
better for him. We long to have him 
cast aside his too sedate and solemn dig- 
nity of exterior, which sat perhaps as 
gracefully on him as on any of his day, 
and be as fresh and natural as a child. 
We wish he could have felt that he was a 
man before he was a minister, and a boy 
before he was a man, and to have the 
heart of a true minister he would still be 
both. The musty study is good in its due 
share ; but God*s free air and sunshine, 
and meeting with other eyes and hands 
and hearts, is far better. We respect the 
man who wears a hole in his study floor, 
but as for choosing him as guide in theol- 
ogy, or practical Christian work, that 
were absurd. We want the man who 
knows nature and human nature. The 
day has gone by, it is to be devoutly 
hoped, when a minister's stupidity in 
earthly things, is proof of his knowledge 

VOL. I. 82 



of the heavenly. And here Cotton 
Mather failed. But for his natural prac- 
tical cast of character, and his ministerial 
training under the care of an experienced 
pastor, he would have entirely failed. 
As it was, he dwelt too much in an unreal 
atmosphere. He saw matters with cleri- 
cal eyes. He needed to have truth ** de- 
polarized," — as will any man trained 
scholastically. And this because he lived 
in his study : and there we are forced to 
commend his industry, wishing all the 
time he had been less industrious. 

One Sabbath day's history will illus- 
trate this. In the morning, arising, as 
usual on the Sabbath, earlier than on 
other days of the week, he considered his 
Sabbath morning question ; he sang his 
morning hymn ; he noted down the 
answers to his ** question ;" he sought his 
God in prayer, personally and specially 
appropriate ; he kept, as all through the 
day, his thoughts on religious things, and 
was continually " forming Admonitions of 
Piety from occasional Objects and Occur- 
rences ;" he guarded his tongue by special 
care ; he wrote an illustration upon a 
Scripture text ; he read a portion of the 
Old Testament in the original Hebrew, 
another in the French, and then a por- 
tion of the New Testament in Greek; 
** then he made the Morning Prayer of 
his Study ;" he " meditated ;" he prayed 
and sang with his family; he gave 
charges to his children, and assigned to 
those too young to attend public worship, 
suitable passages of Scripture to be com- 
mitted to memory ; again in his study, he 
prayed with reference to the coming pub- 
lic service ; listening to his venerated 
father's voice, " not one Head or Text, 
and scarce one Sentence in the Sermon 
passed without his Mind moving towards 
Heaven ;" returning to his study, he read 
over some " Discourses on the great Sab- 
batism which the Church of God is to 
look for, and the glorious ^Things^ which 
are spoken about the City of God ;" at 
the table, to which, every Sabbath, he 
invited some of the poor, ** he fed the 



250 



Cotton Mather. 



[JtJLT, 



SouIb of the Company;** dinner ended, 
he read Scripture, referring to the Sab- 
batism which before was the subject of 
his thoughts, and he prayed and sang a 
hymn regarding it ; again, he prayed for 
Zion ; he read through the sermon he was 
about to preach, and prayed as well for 
personal grace as to its exhortations, as 
for its public success ; he preached, ** and 
spent about three Hours in carrying on 
the Service there, in a great Assembly ;" 
" excessively tired," he " drank his be- 
loved tea ;" he prayed for his daily needs ; 
he catechised the children, and " went 
through the Sermons with them," and 
faithfully taught them in their duties; 
having lefl a son to catechise the servants, 
he retired to his study, and then asked 
himself. What have I left undone that it 
would be for my Consolation and Satis- 
faction to do before I die ; he read ^' in 
a book of Piety, a Sermon that might add 
unto the Heavenly Tincture on his Mind ;" 
he was called to pray with a sick person ; 
returning, he renewed his instructions to 
his children ; he sang, with the family, the 
evening hymn ; again, in his study, he 
gave thanks to God for the mercies of 
the day, and committed himself to the 
" hands of his dear Saviour ;" '* so he 
went to Rest." 

An account of one dav, and that not 
unusual in its labors, is as follows : " This 
Day I performed the Duties of my gen- 
eral Calling, instructed the Scholars un- 
der my charge, underwent the Diversion of 
Meals and Company, with whom 1 was a 
considerable while ; I made a long Ser- 
mon and preached it ; I spent more than 
a little Time at the private Mt^eting, 
where I preached, and read over Knox*s 
Historical Relation of the Island of Cey- 
lon." We should certainly suspect the 
results of these employments to be but 
super6cial, did we not know from his ser- 
mons themselves their value, and from his 
writings, his clear understiuding and 
memory of what he read. 

One year, after his fiflieth had passed, 
affordflt as recorded in hia diary, the fol* 



lowing history: that he had preached 
above seventy-two public sermons and 
nearly half as many private ones ; that not 
one day had passed without a record of 
some plan to do good ; that no day had 
ended in which some portion, however 
small, of his income, had not been set 
apart for benevolence ; that he had pre- 
pared and published fourteen books ; and 
that he had kept sixty fasts and twenty- 
two vigils, — besides attending regularly to 
his other varied duties. Nor was this a 
year of peculiar industry. 

The whole secret of the abundance of 
his works is his careful employment of 
every moment of time. " He worked, — 
worked as hard and as much as any man 
that ever lived. He saved and used 
every minute with wonderful method and 
energy. And he did this conscientiously. 
He was industrious from principle." * It 
is true that much of the learning he 
amassed was, as we estimate it, useless ; 
but it seemed so neither to him nor to his 
age. He meant to use it in his sermons 
and other works which, as had all his 
works, had as their object to advance the 
cause of Christ. The notice over his 
study door, *' Be Short," was a con- 
scientious admonition of the value of his 
time, on which, however, the visitor, in the 
cordiality of his reception, and the charm 
of its occupant's conversation, was apt to 
trench. 

" When to such characteristics are add- 
ed purity of life, unstained, so far as it is 
known, or even suspected, by a single 
blot ; subjection of the appetites, even to 
their mortification ; systematic self-regu- 
lation, in conformity to rules which he 
conscientiously believed to be of divine 
sanction ; love of *' the just liberties of 
mankind," — for this also may be ranked 
with the virtues, having its root and issue 
in justice ; — and a firm and faithful pa- 
triotism, which, if not one of the sacred 
sisterhood, consorts with that high com- 
pany," * we have the foundation of a 

1 Dr. llobbiDs' Hist. Sec. Ch., p. 72. 
■ Dr. Robblm' History, p. H. 



1859.] 



Cotton Mother. 251 



character which, essentially righteous and an act is susceptible of a bad motive, the 

noble, can bear its incidental faults with- bad is invariably preferred to the good, 

out apology or shame. '^ An individual," says President Quincy's 

That he had his faults no one can able, but liberal *• History of Harvard 

doubt. They are conspicuous to every University,' ' " of ungovernable passions 

student of his life. The great amount of and of questionable principles ; credulous, 

calumny thrown upon him, the misunder- intriguing, and vindictive ; often selOsh 

standing which his eccentricities invaria- as to ends, at times little scrupulous in 

bly cause in the superficial observer, the the use of means ; wayward, aspiring, and 

difierences of opinion of which he has vain ; rendering his piety dubious by dis- 

been the subject, and the shifting hues of play, and the motives of his public ser- 

the surface of his life, are presumptive of vices suspected by the obtrusiveness of 

the existence of what a biographer, whose his claims to honor and place." * ** There 

sole desire was to exalt rather than de- is something in the heart," well says Dr. 

scribe the man, would wish to blot If Bobbins, ** that warns us to beware of 

those faults, and mistakes, and follies, were wholesale censure, to look behind stereo- 

the substance of his character, then the typed terms of reproach, and not to take 

representatives of ** liberal " ^ Christians ignominious brands as unquestionable 

are justifiable. If they were incidental proofs of guilt" ** Even before I had 

only, then a writer need not blush to studied Cotton Mather, in his writings 

state them. Such as they were, they and acts, separately from the coloring of 

were sources of vexation to him in his modem biographers, and the attitude in 

own lifetime. No new faults have been which historians had placed him, a sua- 

discovered since, although his diary * has picion had long since haunted me that his 

furnished a record of his most secret faults had been unintenionally exagger- 

thoughts, and thus, of course, has enabled ated." Afler such a study he writes, 

opposers to extract every foolish record, " And now, can this person, with such 

and unguarded — because secret — expres- aims, whose life was devoted to such 

sion of his feelings. objects and crowned with such an end. 

The injustice done to his memory is have been other than an essentially 

not so much in alleging faults, as in so righteous and intrinsically good man ? 

magnifj'ing them that they seem to prove, It is impossible to find any key to the 

necessarily, a bad heart; not in exhibit- interpretation of his history, any explana- 

ing his eccentricities as in so arranging tion of the main and constant facts of his 

them as to make the eccentricities appear life, any harmony between his works and 

to be the man ; not in condemning what his motives, any congruity between his 

was wrong, but in wholesale reproach ; line of conduct and his line of purpose, 

every advantage is taken of his mistakes ; except on the principle that he was really 

his errors are torn away from the causes conscientious, benevolent, and devout" 

which occasioned them ; and wherever Cotton Mather has been charged with 

1 LocuB a non luceDdo ? > We obmrTe in some of the Catalogues of our 

> This diary, continued most of his life, is, princi- Theological Seminaries, this same blunder as to the 

pallj, in existence. The record of each jearformsa name of the institution at Cambridge. There Is no 

pamphlet of itself, and thus the various years have "Harvard Unioersity ;^^ ^'Harvard CSo/le^c" is known 

been scattered. The records of the years 1681 , 1688, to the laws of this Commonwealth, and it is a 

1685, 1686, 1693, 1697, 1698, 1700, 1701, 1702, 1706, part of what is called '' The University at Cam- 

1706,1718,1721, and 1724, are in the inestimable bridge." Having no right to suggest a return to the 

Library of the Mnssachusetts Historical Society, by legal and proper title in the annual Catalogues of 

whose kind permission the writer is allowed to that institution, we do venture to suggest correctness 

make free use of the manuscripts of Cotton Mather, in our denominational issues. The Hon. Edward 

The records for the years 1692, 1696, 1699, 1703, 1709, Everett, former President, may be considered fkir 

1711, 1718, and 1717, are in the Library of the Amer- authority,— m well as the statates of Miisiffhoietts. 

iein AntiquariaD Sodety, at Woroatttr. « 1 : 8l0w 



252 



OMm Mather. 



[JjSLTy 



pride. It is undeniable that he exhibited, 
at least, Tanity. It was exhibited in ways 
which none can admire, and which were 
oflen repulsive. But before he is too 
severely denounced for this fault, the cir- 
cumstances under which it was born and 
grew, ought to be remembered. 

Bom of such an ancestry as has already 
been described, and inheriting two such 
names, his early promise was hailed with 
delight and his progress watched with 
increasing expectation. He was preco- 
cious, and soon learned it from those foolish 
remarks of others which flattered a child- 
ish vanity and excited youthful ambition. 
He was never a true boy ; he was made to 
feel, in days when sports had been far more 
appropriate, how much was expected of 
him in learning and piety. It does not 
take a child long to catch the spirit of 
such lessons of mistaken affection. Cot- 
ton Mather, the child, learned them ; the 
boy, he found his superiority to other 
boys ; the student, his ambition was fired 
and gratified by indiscriminate and fool- 
ish, though not unjust, praise. He en- 
tered college more learned than many a 
graduate, and on entering, was hailed by 
President Hoar with a prophecy of his 
future eminence in the topic assigned 
him for his " initial declamation," — " Te- 
lemacho veniet, vivat modo, fortior a?tas." 
In college, not only was his superiority 
undisputed, but his actual learning. At 
the annual commencement, in 1677, in 
the Latin oration, pronounced by Presi- 
dent Oakes to the assembled throng, 
occurred a eulogy, which is thus rendered : 
" Mather is named Cotton Mather. What 
a name ! My hearers, I mistake ; I ought 
to have said what names I I shall not 
speak of his father, most careful guardian 
of the college, the first Fellow of the cor- 
poration ; for I dare not praise him to his 
face. But should he resemble his ven- 
erable grandfathers, John Cotton and 
Richard Mather, in piety, learning, splen- 
dor of intellect, solidity of judgment, pru- 
dence and wisdom, he will indeed bear 
the palm. And I have confidence that in 



this young man. Cotton and Mather, will 
be united, and flourish again." ^ 

What youth of sixteen, as ardent by 
nature, as ambitious, as susceptible, as 
Cotton Mather, could withstand such a 
training ? Is it any wonder that he was 
vain ? Could anything more have been 
done to foster and stimulate an unhealthy 
ambition ? When, at the age of eighteen, 
he received an unanimous call to become 
Assistant to his father, in the care of the 
largest Church in Boston, his self-esteem 
could not have been diminished. And 
when, as years progressed, he found his 
name becoming famous, his eminent abil- 
ities acknowledged, his superiority in 
learning unquestioned, — hard was it to 
root out the plants which had been so 
industriously cultivated from infancy. 
He must have been more than man to 
have been free from such feelings. He 
was not free. This fault was oflen 
glaring. His biographers — of one class — 
have not forgotten to remind the world of 
it whenever occasioned opened. But 
they have forgotten to tell the world that 
Cotton Mather was himself conscious of 
this fault ; they forget to tell of the tears 
its consciousness cost him ; with his diary 
open, and well thumbed and marked 
where objectionable passages occur, they 
omit to mention the record of his peni- 
tence before God on this account, and 
how he prayed for deliverance, when 
Christian experience had brought it to his 
view. Hear him : " The apprehension 
of the cursed Pride .... working in 
my heart, fill'd me with inexpressible Bit- 
terness and Confusion before the Lord. 
In my early youth, even when others of 
my age are playing in the streets, I 
preached unto very great Assemblies, 
and found strange Respects among the 
People of God. I fear'd (and Thanks be 
to God that He ever struck me with such 
a Fear,) lest a Snare, and a Pit were by 
Satan prepared for such a Novice. I 

1 The origiDal is in the Life of his son, p. 5. We 
take the translation, ( inserting one omitted clause,) 
from Dr. BobbinB' History, p. 90. 



1859.] 



Cotton Mather. 



253 



therefore resolved that I would set apart 
a day to humble myself before God for 
the Pride of my own Heart, and entreat 
that by His Grace I may be delivered 

from that Sin How little Grace 

have I ! How unlike him that could say 
* 1 am lowly !' Let me for this Cause 
abhor myself in Dust and Ashes ! . . . 
Lord, what shall I do for the Cure of this 
Disease V" " I have put my Heart into 
the Hands of the faithful Jesus;" after 
long exercises, he writes, . . . . " And 
now. Lord, I come to Him. He sees how 
I am laboring and heavy laden." Nor 
were the pages here covered, the only 
illustration of his sorrow over the sin im- 
planted so early ; his diary shows this 
struggle all through his life. The passage 
just repeated, one biographer does, how- 
ever, partially quote : it is the author of 
the Life in Sparks' series, who, of course, 
declares it to be " valuable as a remarka- 
ble specimen of sell delusion." 

Another charge made against Cotton 
Mather is that of disappointed ambition. 
In one sense this may be true ; doubtless 
he was disappointed in his expectations of 
a certain kind of influence. And this 
grew naturally out of the condition of 
Massachusetts at that time, taken in con- 
nection with his own hereditary and min- 
isterial position. It was a transition period 
in which he lived, and he, in some degree, 
belonged to the past. 

Cotton Mather's ancestry had wielded 
an enormous influence. The weight of 
character, the writings, and the public 
services of his own grandfathers, John 
Cotton and Richard Mather, had left an 
impress on the polity of Massachusetts, 
still active, and then predominant. They 
had prepared the order of Church gov- 
ernment, and had influenced, at least one 
of them, the form into which the civil 
power fell. They had been, in company 
with the other clergymen, formally con- 
sulted by the colonial government, in all 
cases of delicacy, and their advice, in 
general, adopted. These things he knew. 
He was the son, also, of a man, an agent 



in the courts of monarchs, and what was 
better, one whose daring words, calmly as 
they fell from his quiet lips, had stirred 
the soul of the people to resist, with unan- 
imous voice, the demand of the profligate 
Charles for the surrender of their char- 
tered liberties, and whose nomination sub- 
sequently selected a Royal Governor. 
Why should not he, conscious of superior- 
ity to either in science and mental ability, 
and of as great energy and practical 
power, — why should not he sway the 
people at his will, and make and unmake 
Governors. Such thoughts may have 
been in his mind. He looked for power, 
not in form, but in substance ; but, save 
in transient gleams, it never came. 

The time had been when the minister 
had more real power than the chief mag- 
istrate. He had made and unmade Gov- 
ernors. He had enacted and repealed 
laws. But this power was fading from 
sight With the chapging elements 
which took from Massachusetts the char- 
acter of a theocracy, came a change in 
the position of the clergy. Not but that 
the office should still bring respect and 
influence. In throwing ofl the shackles of 
priestly power, the man could not throw 
ofl* entirely the awe with which the boy 
had regarded the minister of God. Nor 
did the better class desire to do so. Love 
should still repay their labors ; that love 
which clusters about the recollection of 
the kindly nurture of childhood, the hal- 
lowing of the ties of mature life, the 
soothing of the declining steps of aged 
parents, the gushings of the warm heart 
concealed under a cold exterior, which 
commended the departing to the love of 
Jesus, — such love as is all the power the 
minister needs, and which is dearer than 
all outer forms of authority to the servant 
of Plim whose *^ kingdom is not of this 
world." This change still hesitated ; but 
it was fast approaching its consummation. 
The early race of colonists had passed 
away. It was not a reaction, as is some- 
times thought, either in doctrine or prac- 
tice, from a too stringent role ; but the 



254 



Cotton Mather. 



[July, 



inevitable result from the incoming of a 
population of different character, and of 
looser views, who outnumbered the rem- * 
nant of old Puritans, and of necessity, 
though silently, changed the character of 
the Province. One by one the old land- 
marks had been swept off before the 
surging of new hosts. The half way cov- 
enant had early marked the first promi- 
nent change. The charter of William 
and Mary had destroyed the exclusive 
right of Church members to the ballot- 
box. The old Congregational regime was 
trembling before the popular will. The 
civil authority was replacing the eccle- 
siastical. It was the time of a transition 
state, out of which momentous events 
were soon to come, and in which the ele- 
ments were restless and turbulent 

There had been, perhaps, as great a 
change in the ministry itself. Once the 
Puritan minister was the leader of his 
people in the convictions of a distracted 
age. To succeed, proved unshrinking 
boldness with calm discretion, an iron 
will with a warm heart, and a theatre in 
which these qualities had an opportunity 
to command success. The non-conformist 
divine was the first to feel the weight of 
oppression ; was the leader of his people 
in their exile to the New England wilder- 
ness ; joined in the same labors ; exposed 
himself to the same perils ; knew how to 
use the musket in days of terror, and 
how, when the strife was over, to soothe 
the dying and mourn for the dead. But 
as years passed away, these men were 
buried. The wilderness became fruitful 
fields ; the forest-glades resounded with 
the blow of the axe ; the musket hung 
untouched upon the wall ; and the virtues 
needed in the minister were those of the 
mild and saintly kind, rather than the 
qualities of a leader of armed men. 
There were Indian wars ; but the west- 
ern frontier rolled back the tide ; the 
towns of the Piscataqua experienced the 
temporary mourning ; the sound of strife 
died away under the pines of Norridge- 
wock; as a whole, the battle had been 



fought and the victory won, although 
the borders were still debatable grounds ; 
and it was unknowingly that New Eng- 
land was thefn girding itself for a desperate 
conflict with the mother land itself. The 
influence, therefore, of the early Puritan 
ministry, none could wield ; for none were 
trained in the tumults of the reign of 
Charles the First If they had had the old 
virtues, they had no opportunity to test 
them ; the man is necessary to the hour, 
but so is the hour to the man. 

In such a time did Cotton Mather live. 
He did not perceive the change. He 
could not see the signs of the times. He 
felt that the influence of his predecessors 
in the ministry was not his. Though at 
the head of the clergy of New England in 
learning and eloquence, the expected 
deference never came. Doubtless his own 
evident expectation, and his want of some 
qualities of steadiness, and his ignorance 
of crafk, had an effect to prevent the 
realization of his hopes. Had he been 
wiser, more silent, more hypocritical, he 
would never have been portrayed as he 
of\en is ; but, as transparent as the day, 
without the slightest power of conceal- 
ment, faults and disappointments in him 
are blamed, while worse men are praised, 
simply because hypocritical or shrewd 
enough to keep their own counsel. His 
very thoughts are recorded ; who is will- 
ing to stand the same test ? 

But the change going on had still 
another feature, without which we should 
never have heard of his faults. It was 
theological. Cotton Mather did see this 
change. The old doctrines were in dan- 
ger. The strife had already begun for 
the ascendancy of the two schemes of faith. 
When we speak of the origin of Unita- 
rianism as in the commencement of the 
present century, we date it a century too 
late. The battle which is now ended in 
victory, — and since whose ending we only 
wait for the fast progressing crumbling of 
the defeated forces, curious only to see 
whether the spirit is safer diffused than 
concentrated, — had begun even before 



1859.] 



(htion Mxiher. 



255 



Cotton Mather's day. In his time, it 
came into activity. He saw the coming 
defection of the churches. lie placed 
himself, — or rather took the place to 
which he was called, — at the head of the 
old Calvinistic forces. He hesitated not 
to warn the land of the spirit which was 
working, and which — whether he was 
right or wrong — he thought would destroy 
vital religion. It was no selfishness, it 
was a love for Christ, whether mistaken 
or not is not now the question, that led 
him to risk reputation — with all the salient 
points in himself he knew were open to 
attack — in the cause of his Redeemer. 
" Sirs," said he in a discourse, in 1 700, to 
the ministers and others, " Sirs, we shall 
not stop here, believe me ! The third 
plot is to betray the faith of the churches, 
the truths of the Gospel, the doctrines of 
grace. These, these, will shortly be 
assaulted. We shall shortly be called 
upon to part with those things which are 
the very life of our soul." He renewedly 
declared, in a labored argument, " The 
Faith of the Fathers," in which the old doc- 
trines are unflinchingly exhibited. He 
published a " Seasonable Testimony to 
the Doctrines of Grace." ** American 
Sentiments on the Arian controversy," 
came from his pen. And in sermons and 
other writings needless to be enumerated, 
he protested against the modifications, 
which, then called only more consistent 
Calvinism, were bringing in the faith 
which swept away the old churches from 
their Puritan foundation. 

Nor did he stop with mere protest 
Changes in ecclesiastical order were then 
progressing, which he endeavored to meet 
by changes in the opposite direction, — 
towards a stricter form of Church govern- 
ment As he was the founder of our 
present system of ministerial Associations,^ 
so he devised the *' Proposals " for a closer 
union among the churches, in 1705, which 
John Wise effectuallv demolished in Mas- 

1 Id the organization of cbe old Bo«ton AMociation, 
at Cambridge, in 1690. A full ac<ount of the origin 
and progtets of such Associations will be published in 
a ftitore nombtr. 



sachusetts, but which, adopted in Con- 
necticut, are actually existing in the Con- 
sociation of Churches, which owes its 
entire being and form directly to Cotton 
Mather. This plan he devised, not for 
the sake of stricter government in itself, 
but for theological security ; and to this 
he brought even hb father, — the secret of 
that change in the views of Increase 
Mather, in which, led by the influence of 
his brilliant son, he decidedly, in his old 
age, modified his earlier published views. 
Cotton Mather saw, by his very side, a 
Church organized " which refused to 
inquire into the regeneration of communi- 
cants, [and] denied the necessity of ex- 
plicit covenanting with God and the 
Church." * The irregularity of the method 
in which this Church was organized, was 
afterwards overlooked; but President 
Quincy well observes that *' it was impos- 
sible true reconcilement should take 
place," and that " when occasions arose to 
excite, or to stir, the glimmering of con- 
cealed fires might be seen under the ex- 
ternal covering." The question of Church 
order was only the vehicle of the question 
of doctrine. There could be no union. 
And the only wonder is, that Cotton 
Mather and the Calvinists, instead of con- 
tenting themselves with a plan of Con- 
sociation, (abandoning even that for the 
sake of union,) had not entirely gone over 
to that Presbyterianism with whose ad- 
herents he had alwavs felt united. He 
does not show, however, in his " Ratio," 
subsequently published, any real dislike 
to pure Congregationalism. Doctrine was 
to him everything ; form, nothing. 

The chief point where the strife cen- 
tered, was more important It concerned 
the control of Harvard College. The 
contest which has resulted in making the 
entire corporation to consist of members 
of one sect, (so as to avoid sectarianism,) 
was in progress more than a hundred and 
fifty years ago ; and although President 
Mather was nominally the champion of 
the old views which had dedicated the 
I Qoinoy's Ulsft. Harrard UoiTenity, i : 200. 



256 



Cbthn Mather. 



[July, 



College to " Christ and the Church," his 
son was evidently the moving spirit of 
the Calvinists on the part of the clergy, 
as Chief Justice Stoughton was on the 
part of the laity. It is needless here to 
recount these contentions ; President 
Quincy*s able history describes them 
minutely. " It became," he says, " the 
policy of the clergy of that [the Calvinist] 
sect, in the successive schemes for a char- 
ter for the College, during Dr. Mather's 
presidency, so to arrange its powers or its 
principles, as to secure the institution from 
those great changes in religious opinions 
which they had reason to anticipate, and 
which they called * heresies.* " * It was 
equally the policy of the opposing party 
to secure its control in their . own hands. 
Its officers, and lU practices, alike came 
into the controversy. President Mather 
was finally displaced, by a vote of the 
Legislature requiring him to do what it 
was known he would not do, — reside at 
Cambridge, and a successor appointed the 
same day, who never resided at that place, 
but was continued in office by ** evasion." 
The complaints that *' the doctrines of 
grace " had ceased to be taught, were, 
finally, acknowledged in part, and jus- 
tified. The control of the College passed 
into " liberal " hands. Inquiries into the 
religious state of the College were, at one 
time, ordered by the Overseers, and the 
report ** breathes a spirit of subdued dis- 
content with the College," but without 
result And the end was that the insti- 
tution passed away from the control of 
the strict Calvinists. 

In this controversy Cotton Mather had 
his share. His suggestions of " points 
needful to be inquired into " are still pre- 
served. In these, afler intimations against 
the state of learning there, the main points 
appear in statements that books having 
*' the spirit of the gospel " are not recom- 
mended, but those '' erroneous, and dan- 
gerous ;" that the tutors, having no regard 
" to the doctrines of grace," set themselves 
to instil opposite principles, and grievously 
1 History, 1., 196. 



neglect the souls of their pupils ; children 
who left home ** with some gospel symp- 
toms of piety, quickly lose all;" and 
" young ministers, who are the gifls of 
Christ in the service of our churches, 
declare, that, before they came to be what 
they are, they found it necessary to lay 
aside the sentiments which they brought 
from college with them." On such ac- 
counts, the friends of the old order were 
prominent in founding Yale College. 
Sewall, afterwards Chief Justice, and Cod- 
dington, then Secretary of State, drew 
up, on application, the charter for the new 
institution, which was adopted with slight 
change, and in their accompanying letter, 
tell " how glad we were to hear of the 
flourishing schools and colleges of Con- 
necticut, as it would be some relief to us 
against the sorrow we have conceived 
from the decay of them in this Province," 
— a decay in religion, which to them, was 
real decay. And Yale was thenceforth 
looked to. Cotton Mather says, as *' a Sem- 
inary from whence a good people expect 
the supply of all their synagogues." 

The object of the whole contest is evi- 
dent It was a question of theological 
character. Subordinate to this, was a ques- 
tion whether Cotton Mather should be its 
President There is no doubt that he 
expected that position, nor that it was the 
ardent wish of, at least, the old Calvinists, 
nor that his varied learning led the com- 
munity to expect it, nor that he was disap- 
pointed at the result. Perhaps the fact 
that in some desirable qualities he was 
deficient, may have had an etTect ; but it 
is no unprecedented matter that able and 
distinguished men should not be entirely 
adapted to the care of a college. The 
principal reason of his being passed by, 
undoubtedly existed in his theoloorical 
position. The party which had removed 
one President Mather, would not, of 
course, make a second President Mather 
out of one equally stern in his theolotry, 
and more active and enthusiastic in its 
support The regrets of the Calvinists 
were not the regrets of disappointed fol- 



1869.J 



CkMon Mather. 



267 



lowers at the general discomfiture of their 
leaders, but sorrow over the failure of 
their attempt to prevent that declension 
which was evidently approaching. The 
disappointment of Cotton Mather himself 
is, from his very diary, to be attributed to 
his sadness upon seeing that the churches 
would henceforth receive their ministers 
firom a school which he regarded, right- 
fully or wrongfully, as departing from the 
faith, rather than to be laid to the charge 
of selfish considerations. Right or wrong, 
time has vindicated his memory. His 
fears were realized. An accidental ma- 
jority moved the college on a path only 
slightly deviating, but that path gave its 
control to a sect, energetic though small, 
honorable for learning as well- as for many 
graces, but whose theological position no 
Calvinlst can approve. When President 
Mather was removed, it was, says Quincy, 
to ** put an end to a presidency from 
which they could reasonably anticipate 
nothing but violent personal quarrels and 
religious controversies," * — which, being 
interpreted, means, that an active party 
was determined to uproot the views which 
had created Harvard College, and that, 
when he was removed, '* order reigned in 
Warsaw." As years passed by, the work 
of extinguishing the old faith went on. 
In 1806, Eliphalet Pearson, Professor and 
once acting President, declared that 
•* there remained no reasonable hope to 
promote that reformation in the society 
which he wished ;" and that, " events 
during the past year having so deeply 
afifected his mind, beclouded the prospect, 
spread such a gloom over the University, 
and compelled him to take such a view of 
its internal state and external relations, of 
its radical and constitutional maladies, as 
to exclude the hope of rendering any 
essential service to the interests of relig- 
ion by continuing his relation to it," — he 
resigned his position. Andover Theolog- 
ical Seminary came into life, in part to 
supply the place of the lost theological 
training, and, in its past lustre, its present 



energy, and its future prophecy, satisfies 
its friends that " the glory of this latter 
house shall be greater than of the for- 
mer," — of this latter, " Jesus Christ him- 
self being the chief corner stone." * 

In reference to the opposition which 
Cotton Mather experienced, several addi- 
tional facts ought to be noticed* One is, 
that the abuse too often heaped upon him 
now, was not the estimation of his char- 
acter then. It has remained for men of 
a far later period, when the heat of the 
actual contest has subsided, in all cool- 
ness to attempt to deprive him of the 
honor paid him even by opponents in his 
own time. To ascribe unworthy motives 
to present writers, would be to fall into 
the same error we are condemning; and 
it would be unjust But it is fair to 
believe that the light in which Cotton 
Mather is viewed has had its denomina- 
tional aspect The light through the 
stained glass of our churches no more de- 
picts a true man, in the blue forehead, the 
purple eyes, the green nose, the yellow 
chin, where the various colors fall, 
than the light of strong partisanship can 
show the true character of Cotton Mather 
in the distorted and painted shape which 
they inevitably exhibit when they try to 
describe an ardent and unflinching Cal- 
vinist leader. 

Another fact is, that in the slight de- 
parture of that day was not seen the great 
defection which grew therefrom. He was 
considered, by many, a calumniator, when 
his watchful eye discerned the future. 
^* The ministers who are faithful to the 
Lord Jesus," he says, ** are driven to a 
necessity of appearing in defence of the 
churches; no little part of which falls 
unavoidably to my share ;" and in this he 
was derided as a prophet of evil existing 
only in his own imagination. 

And a third fact is, that the abuse he 



YOL.Z. 



1 i: 144. 
83 



s Any one deairiDg particular proof that the itrag- 
gle of that time was between the old CalriniBts and 
those to whom the Unitarians are " successors," and 
that it was on religious grounds, is referred to the 
very f^ and ooncluslTe argument of President 
Qoinoy. 



2^ 



Cotton MxtMr. 



[JtfLt, 



met with, was not from his main oppo- 
nents. Colman and his associates were 
honorable men, ready to do justice even 
to the sternest Calvinists ; they were not 
bitter in his life, and they vindicated the 
character of the dead. But the time had 
gone by when a man could be in New 
England six months, and not hear an 
oath. Looser morals had entered. ** All 
the men that have any virtue or religion 
in them, I find,*' said an English lawyer 
to Cotton Mather, afler six months so- 
journ, " love you and value you, and 
honor you ; but all the base people, who 
are scandalous for vice and wickedness, 
hate you and can't give you a good word." 
In the various heated discussions of that 
time. Cotton Mather too often displayed 
an irritability of temper. In those days, 
controversies were not carried on in the 
mildest forms, nor with particularly re- 
fined vocabularies. He was often out of 
patience, as he was easily provoked. But 
of such sharpness his diary shows a con- 
sciousness, and a repentance. Again and 
again, he humbled himself before God 
after hard speeches, and prayed for 
strength against the propensity. That his 
opponents were equally at fault is evident ; 
but as his command of language surpassed 
theirs, their refuge is in injured inno- 
cence. But while severe, his heart was 
kind. He was never a persecutor. As 
to the Quakers, whom he particularly dis- 
liked, he protested against the slightest 
legal prosecution. His Christian charity 
to other churches cannot be doubted. 
" In this capital city of Boston," he says, 
" there are ten assemblies of Christians of 
different persuasions, who live so lovingly 
and peaceably together, doing all the 
offices of friendship for one another in so 
neighbourly a manner, as may give a sen- 
sible rebuke to all the bigots of uniform- 
ity ; and show them how consistent a 
variety of rites in religion may be with 
the tranquillity of human soiiety ; and 
may demonstrate to the world, that perse- 
cution for conscientious dissent in religion 
is an abomination of desolation ; a thing 



whereof all ^se and just men will say, 
* Cursed be its anger.' ** In some features, 
he was peculiarly liberal : As to " Com- 
munion " and ** Admission to all the Priv- 
ileges and advantages of the Evangelical 
Church State, I would have you insist 
upon it. That no Terms be imposed, bat 
such Necessary things as Heaven will 
require of all, who shall Ascend into the 
Hill of the Lord and Stand in his holy 
Place. Be sure to stand by that Golden 
Rule, Receive you one another, as Christ 
also received us unto the Glory of God. 
That is to say, Those of whom it is our 
Duty to Judge, that our Saviour will 
Receive them to this Glory in the Heav- 
enly World, we ought now to Receive 
into all the Enjoyments of our Christian 
Fellowship. And Let the Table of the 
Lord have no rails about it, that shall 
hinder a godly Independent, and Presby- 
terian, and Episcopalian, and Antipedo- 
baptist, and Lutheran, from sitting down 
together there." 

These facts are generally unknown. 
They are swallowed up in those promi- 
nent matters with which, in most minds, is 
linked all that is known of Cotton Mather, 
— the witchcraft delusion. 

Cotton Mather was evidently promi- 
nent in all the unfortunate transactions of 
that affair. He is oflen charjjed with 
hypocrisy in them; with originating them, 
for his own selfish purposes ; with sway- 
ing the popular mind in that direction, or, 
with yielding to popular prejudice that he 
might secure authority. To rebut these 
accusations at length, is hardly worth the 
labor. But some facts ought to be re- 
membered. 

From childhood, Cotton Mather had 
believed in the ministrv of anjjels : it was 
a favorite thought that good angels were 
constantly serving God by caring for His 
children, and that evil spirits were minis- 
tering to evil passions. So believing, 
when it seemed that evil spirits were 
assuming peculiar shape, and were espec- 
ially active out of hatred to New Eng- 
land's institutions, he was ready, by this 



1859.] 



CoUon Mudher. 



259 



▼eiy suporstitioD, if it most be called such, 
to enter with deep interest into such mat- 
ters. When, therefore, the accounts of 
the Suffolk trials came across the ocean, 
and as Hutchinson suggests, inflamed the 
popular mind, Cotton Mather, with his 
enthusiastic nature, was deeply interested 
in the new phenomena. *^ The sugges- 
tion, however, that Cotton Mather, for 
purposes of his own, deliberately got up 
this delusion," says Hildreth,^ *^ and forced 
it upon a doubtful and hesitating people, 
is utterly absurd ;" nor is he "to be 
classed," he says, " with those tricky and 
dishonest men so comimon in our times, 
who play upon popular prejudices which 
they do not share, in the expectation of 
being elevated to hdhors and office." • It 
was a general delusibn. Nor was it a de- 
lusion at all in so far as mysterious phe- 
nomena were concerned. An imparti^ 
reader will find facts bafliing his under- 
standing. "It is not enough to assert," 
says Barry,* "that all these were delu- 
sions ; for if the evidence of the senses is 
utterly unreliable, the whole fabric of 
society' is at once overthrown. The most 
cautious scepticism did not deny what 
were confirmed not only by credible wit- 
nesses, but by the irresistible convictions 
of personal inspection." These resembled, 
perhaps, the effects seen under the name 
of animal magnetism ; or, perhaps, those 
yet stranger results seen in our own time, 
the belief in which eflectually demolishes 
the claim of this, to any greater enlighten- 
ment than that of the seventeenth cen- 
tury. Nor was the belief merely Ameri- 
can : " He must be a very obdurate Sad- 
ducee," said Baxter, " who would not 
believe in it." This belief had the sanc- 
tion of Addison. " To deny the actual 
existence of witchcraft and sorcery," says 
the famous jurist Blackstone, whose name 
is almost a synonym for law, " is at once 
flatly to contradict the revealed word of 
God, and the testimony of every nation in 
the world." " The Courts," says Hutch- 

1U:151. <U:U2. 

s Hiitorj of UunohoMttf, U : 86. 



inson* of these trials, "justify them- 
selves from books of law, and the authori- 
ties of Keble, Dalton, and other lawyers, 
then of the first character ;" " The great 
authority," he adds, "was Sir Matthew 
Hale." " For my own part," says Cotton 
Mather, " I know not that ever I have 
advanced any opinion in the matter of 
witchcraft, but what all the ministers of 
the Lord that I know of in the world, 
whether English, or Scotch, or French, or 
Dutch, (and I know many,) are of the 
same opinion." In his credulity, he was 
in excellent company. 

With such views the trials proceeded. 
That Cotton Mather was guilty most of all, 
is utterly absurd. That be, and others, 
were deceived, is true. " They imagined 
the prince of hell, with his legions, to be 
among them, the Lord's host, seeking 
among them whom he might devour ; and 
they would give place to him for subjec- 
tion, no, not for an hour." " They were 
true Massachusetts men and ministers; 
and ^ whatever opinions upon facts or du- 
ties Massachusetts has held, her habit has 
been, whether for good or ill, to follow 
them with vigorous action.' " Yet, " more 
witches have been put to death in a single 
county in England, in a short space of 
time, than have ever suffered in New 
England, altogether, from first to last'" 

In the midst of the trials, the govern- 
ment, once more, asked advice of minis- 
ters of Boston. Cotton Mather drew up 
the reply. In it, it is true, they recom- 
mended " the speedy and vigorous prose- 
cution of such as have rendered them- 
selves obnoxious, according to the direc- 
tions given in the laws of Go4, and the 
wholesome statutes of the English nation," 
— to which no law-abiding citizen could 
object, — but they also recommend "a 
very critical and exquisite caution," " ex- 
ceeding tenderness to the accused," and 
that " no spectral evidence be admitted." 
Had this advice been followed, it is diffi- 
cult to see how a single conviction could 

« History of MaBsaohiuetci, ii : dup. 1. 
* Hatoliinfoii, amU. 



260 



Cotton Mather. 



[July, 



have taken plaoe. Cotton Mather him- 
self made a proposal " far more charac- 
teristic of him than ambition or cruelty." * 
He offered to provide for six of the ac- 
cused, (others doing the same,) ** and see 
whether, without more bitter methods, 
prayer and fasting could not put an end 
to these heavy trials," — an offer which 
was refused. That he was credulous — as 
were others ; that he was too fond of the 
marvellous ; that his pen and tongue were 
active, as they alwa3rs were, — is true. But 
beyond this, nothing worse appears. 
** That he was under the influence of any 
bad motives, any sanguinary feelings; 
that he did not verily think he was doing 
Grod service, and the devil injury ; that 
he would not gladly have prevented the 
disorderly proceedings of the courts, the 
application of unlawful tests, and every- 
thing unmerciful in the trials, and inhu- 
man in their issue, — the most careful 
examination has failed to make me be- 
lieve." « 

Nor did Cotton Mather ever change 
his belief in the supernatural character of 
these events. Judge Sewall publicly 
acknowledged his error in the proceed- 
ings, but Stoughton and Mather, never. 
Stoughton, with Puritan and honorable 
steadfastness, declared, that, as for him, 
when he sat in judgment, he had the fear 
of God before his eyes, and gave his opin- 
ion according to the best of his understand- 
ing. The author in Sparks* series, says, of 
course, that Mather " from being regarded 
as a man of great and venerable charac- 
ter, was generally shunned and treated 
with aversion ;" while Hildreth, with 
truth says,^ that " Stoughton and Cotton 
Mather, though they never expressed the 
least regret or contrition for their part in 
the affair, still maintained their places in 
the public estimation." Stoughton was 
immediately chosen Assistant, although 
then Lieutenant-Governor, " so agreeable 
was he to the people," * and was contin- 
ued in that office till his death. 

1 Dr. RobbiDB' Hift. p. 107. > Ibid., p. 111. 

s U : 166. 4 Hatohinson, aiue. 



That Cotton Mather was not a man to 
yield to popular prejudices is seen in his 
conduct regarding inoculation. In 1721, 
the small-pox entered Boston. Cotton 
Mather had, in the course of his reading, 
met in the Transactions of the Royal 
Society, an account of inoculation as prac- 
tised in the East He was convinced of 
its utility, and inmiediately laid the mat- 
ter before the physicians of the town. 
Not one of the faculty would listen, ex- 
cept Zabdiel Boylston, who immediately 
put the plan into execution. A great 
clamor was excited. A war of pamphlets 
followed. Mather and Boylston, backed 
by the whole Boston clergy, were on the 
one side ; all the other physicians, together 
with the mass of the people, on the other. 
So excited became the population that, 
in the rage against the clergy, religious in- 
stitutions seemed to tremble. The town 
authorities resolved against it. The House 
of Representatives passed an act making 
inoculation a crime. In the midst of all 
this tempest, Cotton Mather was unflinch- « 
ing. Even when, in the wrath of the 
infuriated people, a hand grenade was 
thrown into his chamber at night, with 
threats attached, of still further outrage, 
he never faltered. And, at length, as 
facts showed the wisdom of the plan, he 
received the gratitude due to the man who 
introduced this practice into America. 

From all the trials of public regard 
which Cotton Mather thus encountered, 
he emerged unhurt. The attacks of Ca- 
lef in regard to witchcraft undoubtedly 
had some effect, but they never destroyed 
public confidence. People love far better 
an enthusiastic and open man, notwith- 
standing all the blunders incident to such 
a character, than they do the cold and 
calculating model of faultlessness. Un- 
flinching force will command respect So 
it was with Cotton Mather. His heart 
was right, and people loved him for it 
His will was strong, and they admired him 
for it. When, a few days prior to the 
revolution which deprived Andros of au- 
thority, the popular feeling began, in a 



1859.] 



Cctton Mather. 



261 



town meeting for the choice of Represen- 
tatives, to exhibit itself in wild uproar, 
Cotton Mather appeared, and so spoke as 
to calm the populace to quiet. A few 
days afler, when the revolution actually 
occurred, Cotton Mather again appeared, 
and stemmed the tide of passion in which 
the exasperated people were carried away. 
He was a patriot : " I stand,'* he says, 
** for the just liberties of mankind, with a 
free indulgence of civil rights in the 
State." Nor did he hesitate, with his 
father, years afler, to charge a Royal gov- 
ernor with corruption and bribery ; with 
falsehood and treachery ; and history has 
confirmed the verdict 

Those who knew him best were his 
admirers. Such were the ministers of the 
churches. Some testimony to their gen- 
eral estimate is already given ; but their 
deference in his old age is equally clear. 
" He was a pastor in the town," says Col- 
man, ^ when the eldest of the present 
pastors were but children, and long be- 
fore most of them were bom." They 
knew him. The words of Prince are full 
of touching pathos, as they describe the 
reverence felt by younger ministers for 
the venerable servant of God ; ** a father 
to the ministers," says he, " and to him 
they repaired in difficult cases for light 
and direction. We sat at his feet as chil- 
dren ; his speech dropped upon us, and 
we waited for him as for the rain, as the 
thirsty earth for the rain of heaven." * 

In some of the later years of his life. 
Cotton Mather exhibits depression of 
mind. There was cause enough for it in 
his domestic trials. He was involved in 
pecuniary difficulties, — never avaricious, 
— but from them his people, as already 
said, handsomely relieved him ; ** I have 
not a foot of land upon the Earth. Ex- 
cept a Library and a little household 
stuff, I have nothing upon earth. 'Tis 
inexpressible how much this condition 
pleases and gladdens me ;" ** strangely 

1 The only quotation from Prince^B sermon which 
we find In the Life in Sparks' aeries, is ** The inflrm- 
itiat of the fttheri should be zeverenUy covered.'' 
COBuaml is aeedlew. 



provided for," as he was, he praised God ; 
*' In all my afflictions, He will be afflicted." 

A severe trial was the death of his wife.* 
We cannot forbear copying, from his 
diary, his own simple and beautiful de- 
scription : 

" I have never yet seen such a black 
day, in all the time of my pilgrimage. 
The Desire of my eyes is this day to be 
taken from me. Her death is lingering 
and painful. AH the forenoon of this day 
she was in the pangs of death ; sensible, 
until the last minute or two before her 
final expiration. 

" I cannot remember the discourse that 
passed between us. Only, her devout 
soul was full of satisfaction about her 
going to a state of blessedness with the 
Lord Jesus Christ ; and as far as my dis- 
tress would permit me, I studied how to 
confirm her satisfaction and consolation. 

** When I saw to what a point of resigna- 

s Cotton Mather was married three times. In his 
twenty-fourth year he " tho't it advisable ... to 
marry." So, " he first looked np to Hearen for di- 
rection ;" on which Peabody well remarks that he 
commenced where most men end; as a result, he 
married Abigail, daughter of Col. John Phillips, of 
Ch&rlestown, bom June 19, 1670, d. Not. 28, 1702. 
He married, 2d, Aug. 18, 1708, widow Elisabeth 
Hubbard, dau of Dr. John Clark, who died Nor. 8, 
1713. He married, 3d, July 5, 1715, Lvdia, widow of 
John George, and daughter of Samuel Lee ; she died 
Jan. 22, 1734. Cotton Mather^s children numbered, 
as Samuel tells us, fifteen ; the learned antiquary, 
Samuel 0. Drake, Esq., says that he is " able, from 
all other sources, to make out the names of but thir- 
teen," and his failure may be deemed oonclu^ire. 
As fkr as known, the children were Katharine, bom 

, died, of consumption, Dec. 1716, " who 

understood Latin and read Hebrew fluently ;" Abi- 
gail, b. Aug. 22, 1687, d. before 1G98; Joseph, b. 
March 28, 1698, d. April 1, 1693 ; Abigail, b. June 
14, 1694, married Dan. Willard, had fbur children, 
and d. Sept. 26, 1721 ; Hannah, b. 1696-7, was liTing, 
unmarried, in 1728 ; Increase, b. July 9, 1699, lost at 
sea, on a royage from Bermuda to Newfoundland, 
before 1728; Samuel, b. 1700, d. before 1706; these 
were by the first wife. By the second wife, Elisa- 
beth, b. July 13, 1704, mar. July 80, 1724, Edward 
Cooper, d. Aug. 7, 1726 ; Samuel, b. Oct. 80, 1706, 
H. C. 1723, D.D., minister of the Second Church, 
mar. Hannah, sister of Got. Thomas Hutchinson, d. 
June 27, 1785 ; Nathaniel, b. May 16, 1707, d. Not. 
24, 1709 ; Jerasha, b. April 1711, d. Not. 1718 ; 
Eleaser and Martha, twins, b. and d. in 1718. A 
pedigree of the Mather Family is in the New England 
Hist.-G«]i. ficgister, Ti., anno 1862. 



262 



Cottcm Mather. 



[July, 



tion I was now called of the Lord, I re- 
solved, with His help therein to glorify 
Him. So, two hours before my lovely 
consort expired, I kneeled by her bed- 
side, and I took into my two hands, a dear 
hand, the dearest in the world. With her 
thus in my hands, I solemnly and sincerely 
gave her up unto the Lord ; and in token 
of my real resignation, I gently put her 
out of my hands and laid away a most 
lovely hand, resolving that I would never 
touch it any more. This was the hardest, 
and perhaps the bravest, action, that ever 
I did. She aflerwards told me that * she 
signed and sealed my act of resignation.' 
And though before that she called for me 
continually, she, afler this, never asked 
for me any more. She continued until 
near two o'clock in the afternoon. And 
the last sensible word that she spoke, 
was to her weeping father, — * Heaven, 
Heaven, will make amends for all !' ** 

A subsequent marriage was less hap- 
py. To enter into detail, from his diary, 
on this matter, is like sacrilege. It is 
enough to quote a few lines : " This last 
year (1718) has been full of her prodig- 
ious paroxysms which have made it a year 
of such distress with me, as I have never 
seen in my life." Again, " Oh, my poor, 
distressed, oppressed family. Shall I not 
take the several abused children and call 
them with me into my study and there 
.... pray with them and with fervent 
and weeping prayers carry them up to the 
Lord." Again, he speaks of his child 
driven from home ; " My poor Nancy ! 
My dear Nancy !" Sometimes, " O thou 
glorious Forgiver of Iniquity, Transgres- 
sion, and Sin ; O thou gracious Hearer 
of prayer, from the Depths I cry unto 
Thee." Or, more eloquent still, *'My 
God, My God !" 

A severer trial came, the anguish of a 
father's heart at the conduct of a guilty 
son. Children had been removed by 
death, and he had not murmured; but 
this tasked his confidence in God. It was 
his dearly loved son Increase, brilliant 
but profligate, of early promise sufficient 



to sanction the highest hopes, but ruined 
by evil companions. *^ My miserable 
son," writes the father, in 1721 ; "I must 
cast and chase him out of my sight, forbid 
him to see me, until there appears some 
marks of repentance upon him." Again, 
" Now, now, I have a dreadful opportu- 
nity to try how far I may find a glorious 
Christ, a comforter that shall relieve my 
soul. What shall I find in store to com- 
fort me under the horrible distresses which 
the conduct of my wicked son Increase 
has brought upon me ?" Later still, ** I 
must write a tremendous letter to my son ; 
and, afler I have set Jiis conduct in order 
before his eyes, I will tell him that I will 
never own him, or do for him, or look 
on him, till the characters of repentance 
are very conspicuous on him. God pros- 
per it ! Though I am but a dog, yet cast 
out the devil that has possession of that 
child!" He writes more and more de- 
spondingly, until when the gifted and 
wayward young man had found an early 
and a cheerless grave in mid ocean, the 
sole record is, " My son Increase, my son, 
my son 1" 

His last illness came. It commenced 
in the latter part of December, 1727. 
From its beginning, he felt that it would 
be fatal. " My last enemy is come ; I 
would say, * my best friend,' " wrote he to 
his physician. In the course of the six 
weeks remaining to him on earth, he 
arranged all his worldly matters, — and he 
had little to arrange, save to dispose of his 
papers. He had no need to prepare for 
heaven ; that work had been done a half 
century before ; in these weeks was wit- 
nessed his ripening for the heavenly 
glory. As, often, friends, and kinsfolks, 
came to see him, he was full of desire for 
their spiritual welfare. " Many were the 
Blessings he pronounced and the Charges 
he gave those who were near him." 
When his sister's son craved the old Chris- 
tian's blessing, — " my dear child, and my 
son, my son, I bless you ; I bless you ; I 
wish you all manner of blessings ! I know 
not what better to wish you than this, that 



1859.] 



Cotton Mather. 



263 



yon be strong in the Grace with which 
our Lord Jesus Christ will fiirnish you. 
, I know not what better to wish you than 
this, that you may be an Instrument of 
displaying to others the Beauties and 
Glories of our Lord Jesus Christ I know 
not what better to wish you than this, 
that you may be very faithful in projec- 
tions and essays to Good, that it may be 
your ambition to bring forth much of that 
fruit by which our Heavenly Father may 
be glori6ed." * In the blessing to his own 
son, *' I trust and pray the God of Abra- 
ham, and Isaac, and Jacob, may be yours, 
• and His Blessing rest upon you. I wish 
that, as you have a prospect of being ser- 
viceable in the world, you may be great 
and considerable as the Patriarchs were, 
by introducing a Christ into the world. 
The Grace of the Lord Jesus Christ 
be with you." ^ 

To his children, he had always been an 
' unusually tender and affectionate father. 
In his last days, he committed them to 
God ; " Wherefore, O my Saviour, I com- 
mit my Children into Thy Fatherly 
Hands. I pray to Thee that Thy gracious 
Providence may, and I trust in Thee that 
it will, be concerned for them. Oh, let 
nothinji be wanting to them that shall be 
good for them. Cause them to Fear, to 
I^ve Thee, to walk in Thy ways; and 
make use of them to do Good in their 
Generation. Be Thou their Friend and 
raise them up such as may be necessary^ 
and in a convenient Manner supply all 
their Necessities. Give thy Angels a 
charge of them ; and when their Father 
and Mother foisake them, then do Thou 
take them up." 

As for himself, he had no fears. At 
times he was troubled lest the pains of 
death might prevent his glorifying Christ ; 
but as to his future state, he was abundantly 
satisfied. His trust was in Christ. "Lord," 
he was heard to say, " Thou art with me, 
and dost enable me to sing in the dark 
Valley of the Shadow of Death. 1 per- 
ceive the Signs of Death upon me, and 
1 Life, &0., p. 165. 



am T not affrighted ? No, not at all! I 
will not so dishonor my Saviour as to 
be frightened at anything that can befall 
me, while I am in His blessed Hands." 
In such a happy state of mind and heart, 
the weeks passed away, while he was 
growing weaker and weaker, and while 
the prayers of multitudes were ascending 
to God in the general sorrow which con- 
templated his approaching departure. 
One of his Church asked him if he was 
desirous to die ; " I dare not say that I 
am," was his reply, " nor yet that I am 
not ; I would be entirely resigned unto 
God." The physicians told him that he 
could not recover ; it was no new idea to 
him ; he only lifted up his hands and 
said, " Thy will be done on earth, as it is 
in Heaven." The characteristic of his 
life showed itself in his last days, — in still 
doing good. When, ten days before his 
death, his son a^ked him * what he should 
think of as his last exhortation,* — "Re- 
member only that one word * Fruitful,* " 
was the reply. That day, itself, was a 
happy time. It was the Sabbath, and he 
was rapidly approaching heaven — so rap- 
idly that decease was hourly apprehended, 
— even then dying.' He' himself, was 
expecting death ; '' 1 was hoping," said he 
to Dr. Colman that evening, '* to have 
been with Christ this sacrament day.** 

He lingered two days longer. The day 
before he died, some passages were read 
to him at his own request, from one of his 



a The aathor of the Life in Sparks* wri^-s (who 
ought not to be confounded with the eminetft Prori- 
dent Sparks himself.) says '* His son, in accordance 
with the principle on which bis ^ Life ' is written, to 
withhold all such information as might interest the 
reader, does not say wtiat the disorder was.^' The 
life says, page 1^, that ir was a " hard cough, and a 
suffocating asthma, with a ferer." When it is con- 
sidered that the '^ information '* which Samuel Ma- 
ther mainly gires, relates to his Iktber's religious 
character and exercises, why it does not '* interest 
the reader " may be apparent. 

The difference of estimate we put upon this work 
and that of President Quincy, is this : the latter is 
sturdy and outspoken, and hates Cotton Mather with 
a relish that we respect ; the former is pretendedly 
unbiassed, but loses no opportunity to giTe him a 
■ly stab whercTer it can be done,— which we despiaa. 



264 



Churches cmd Ministers in Windham Oo^ (H. [July, 



own books,^ which he said would be his 
very words then, had he strength to re- 
peat them ; among them were the follow- 
ing: 

** Upon the renouncing of all Depend- 
ence on our own Righteousness, and rely- 
ing on the Righteousness of the perfect 
Obedience, which the Son of God, stoop- 
ing to become surety, paid unto His own 
Law in our Stead, He will uphold us with 
the Rijrht Hand of His Ria;hteousnesss. 
Giving us to see ourselves furnished and 
covered with a Righteousness of more 
account than the best Angel in Heaven, 
may pretend unto. He will enable us to 
say, The Gates of Righteousness I see set 
open for me ! And having a Soul set 
upon the Praising of God, greatly affected 
with the Praises of His Christ, and strong- 
ly desirous to celebrate and propagate, 
we shall be able to go on and say, * I will 
go in at those golden Gates ; I have some- 
thing to do within. I will go in and 
praise the Lord. It is what I have begun 
to do ; and His Praise endureth forever. 
Never, never, shall I give over the Doing 
of if " Again, " There is a Well of 
Water in me that will spring up to ever- 
lasting Life. -Death do thy worst. There 
is no killing of that Life which my God 
has begun to raise me to. Have I had a 
glorious Christ living, acting, and work- 
ing in me, and quickening me for Living 
unto God ; and will He ever lose His hold 
of me? No, no; I am sure of Living 
with Him forevermore.** The Presence 
of Christ, he says, ** will enable us to 
sing in the Valley of the Shadow of 
Death ; .... it will so mollify the fierce 

1 RMtitUtOS. 



Visage of Death, as that if our ThongfatB 
of the dying Hour be enquired after, we 
shall break forth into Triumphs upon it ; 

joyful Hour ! O welcome Hour ! 
Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Why 
is thy chariot so long a coming T* 

•* And now vain world," he said, " fare- 
well ! Thou hast been to me a very un- 
easy wilderness. Welcome, everlasting 
life ! The paradise of God stands open 
for me. I am just entering into a world 
where I shall be free from Sin and from 
all Temptations to it ; a world where I 
shall have all tears wiped from my eyes ; 
a world where I shall be filled with all* 
the fulness of Grod. The best hour that 
ever I saw, is what I am hourly and gladly 
waiting for !" 

The day after he had ended his sixty- 
fifth year, was the day of his death. All 
saw that death was close at hand. ** Is 
this dying ?** said he, with triumph in his 
air. " This all ? Is this what I feared , 
when I prayed against a hard death ? Is 
it no more than this ! O, I can bear this. 

1 can bear it I can bear it !" * 

But a little while before he died, " I 
have nothing more to do here. My will is 
entirely swallowed up in the will of God.** 

His work was done. His last word 
trembled on his lips ; it was, " Grace I** 
And as his soul passed away to the pres- 
ence of his beloved Redeemer, out fit)m 
the clouds which had gathered around his 
later life, there was fulfilled in his own 
departure, the beautiful Scripture he had 
often loved to repeat, " And it shall come 
to pass that at evening time it shall be 
light." 

s R«T. Joshua Gee. 



CONGREGATIONAL CHURCHES AND MINISTERS 

IN WTNDHAM COUNTY, Cl\ 



Windham County, Conn., is in the 
North-eastern part of the State, and was 
formerly included for the most part in 
New London County. When organized 



in 1 726, it embraced a portion of what is 
now Tolland County, and the town of 
Lebanon, now in New London County. 
It did not, however, include the town of 



1869.] Churches and Mmsters in Windham Co.^ Ct. 265 

Woodstock, which was then under Massa- " Here liea the remains of ReT. Mr. James 

chusetts jurisdiction. H*l«» ^*»« fi"* ^^^^^^ °f ^^« ^^^"^^^^^ »^ ^***- 

rr,x ^ . n _A i. I.T i_ J X ford, and husband of Mad. Sarah Hale. He 

The county seat was first established at , , ' , - , , , ,, . . cq^. 

.■^ left earth for heaven (as we trust) in y* ootn 

Windham, but was afterwards removed to y^„ ^f ,^4^ '^g^^ Nov. 22, 1742. Here lies a 

Brooklyn, in 1819. friend of Christ and of his people's, the Rev. 

The town of Ashford was incorpo- J. H. 

rated in October, 1710. It has chiefly an Let all, that IotM the man these lines present, 

agricultural population. It contains two ^'>^^ his fidth in Christ, and of au their sins !•- 

Congregational churches, in two local 

parishes : the First, or Center, and the Mr. Hale published the last sermon of 

Second, or Westford. ^« neighbor. Rev. Wm. Billings, with a 

The CuuRCH IN THE F1R8T SOCIETY p^face by himself. 

was gathered Nov. 26, 1718, and has had He married Sarah Hathaway,(?) and 

the following succession of pastors : ^^d sons John and James, the former bom 

at Swanzey, before his lather moved to 

James Hale, Ord. Nov. 26, 1718 . ir i j ^l i ^^ ..^i j i. a i.r j 

♦ Nov. 22 1742 Ashford, and the latter settled at Ashtord. 

John Bass, Ord. Sept. 7, 1743 Rev. John Bass was born at Brain- 

Dis. June 5, 1761 ^ t., ^c i. «/. ,^,.» r t x. 

Timothy ALLEN, Inst. Oct. 12, 1757 t^^e. Ms., March 26,1717, son of John 

Dia. Jan. 18, 1764 and Hannah Bass. He graduated H. C. 

James Messinoer, Ord. Feb. 15, 1769 1737, and was A. M. in course. He was 

_ -. rk J o * lis iToo called to the pastorate in Ashford, May 

Enoch Pond, Ord. Sept. 16, 1789 *^ , . , / , 

* Aug. 6, 1807 10, 1743, and was ordained on the 7th 

Philo JuDSON, Ord. Sept. 26, 1811 September following, on which occasion 

_ ^^' ,"*,-' ,o„. Rev. John Hancock of Braintree preached 

Job Hall Ord. Jan. 15, 1834 ,, , 1 ,. , ,v 

Dis. July 17, 1837 a sermon (afterwards published) " on the 

Chabxbs Htde, Inst. Feb. 21. 1838 danger of an unqualified ministry," — evi- 

Y'^' "^^""^ ^' ]Vf^ dently aiming a shaft at Gilbert Tennenf s 

Charles Peabodt, Inst. Jan. 20, 1847 ,. , • * w 

Dis. Sept. 11, 1860 discourse on an unconverted ministry. In 

Chablbs Chamberlain, Inst. June 8, 1854 his sermon Mr. Hancock speaks of his ac- 

Dis. March, 1858 qu^intance with the pastor elect, as afford- 

Rev. James Hale was bom in Bev- ing assurance of his sufficient qualifica- 

erly, Ms., Oct 14, 1685, son of Rev. John tions. 

and Sarah (Noyes) Hale ; graduated at It was not long, however, before there 

Harvard College, 1703, where he was arose uneasiness in Ashford, and under 

also made A. M., and was Tutor at Yale date of June 5, 1751, Mr. Bass made this 

College from 1707 to 1709. He came to entry in the Church record: " I was dis- 

Ashford in 1716, on an offer of 35 or 45 missed from my pastoral relation to the 

pounds for a year's service, and was or- Church and people of Ashford, by the 

dained Nov. 26, 1718, at the same time Rev. Consociation of Windham County, 

that the Church was organized, with 13 for dissenting from the Calvinistic sense 

male members. This charge he retained of the quinquarticular points, which I ig- 

till his death, receiving 258 persons into norantly subscribed before my ordination, 

fellowship. He was, according to tradi- for which and all other of my mistakes I 

tion, " a holy and godly man." Wisner's beg pardon of Almighty God." Mr. Bass 

History of the Old South Church, Boston, had embraced the opinions of John Tay- 

mentions that they once voted '* that lor of Norwich, Eng. There was some 

fifteen pounds be given to Mr. James difficulty about settling him, but (to quote 

Hale of Ashford, for his encouragement his own words) " I declared myself a Cal- 

in the work of the ministry." His epi- vinist when settled, and for several years 

taph reads thus : after. My orthodoxy was established in 

VOL. I. 84 



266 



Ohwrches and Ministers in Windham Co^ Ct. [ Jult, 



the view of Consociation by an examina- 
tion of my sermons, though some of the 
Consociation (flaming New Lights,) would 
have rejoiced in my overthrow." After 
this, he says, he examined, ^* and came 
into a new set of notions." These he 
withheld from the people, " until interro- 
gated in open church meeting." He adds, 
** What you say further of the Consocia- 
tion's unanimity, is also far from being true. 
The major part voted against what you call 
Arminianism, but some did not, nor could 
they with a good conscience, and I believe 
few of them would act the same part 
again, and ruin a people, as they have 
done poor Ashford. But Orthodoxy atones 
for all faults, and Heresy extinguishes all 
virtues with some people." 

In the spring of 1 742, Mr. Bass removed 
to Providence, R.I. where he was employed 
to supply the pulpit of the First Congrega- 
tional Church, which was then but a rem- 
nant in consequence of the recent separa- 
tion of Mr. Snow's adherents. Rev. Dr. 
Hall, in an Historical Discourse, says, 
" The encouragement given to Mr. Bass 
was very small, the number of hearers be- 
ing oflen not over twenty, and the Church 
so scattered and divided that it was scarce- 
ly known whether any of them were left. 
At length, in 1758, his health being poor, 
Mr. Bass relinquished preaching, and en- 
tered on the practice of physic, in which 
he continued till his death, which occurred 
Oct. 24, 1762." This event was thus no- 
ticed in the Providence Gazette of 30th 
October : " Last Lord's Day morning de- 
parted this life, in the 4Cth year of his age, 
the late Rev. John Bass, of this town. 
A gentleman who, in his public perform- 
ances, was evangelical, learned, rational 
and accurate ; and in private life was 
sociable, beneficent, compassionate, in- 
structive, and exemplary. In his last sick- 
ness, which was of long continuance, he 
submitted to the dealings of Divine Provi- 
dence with the patience and resignation 
of a Christian, united to the calmness and 
fortitude of a Hero. His funeral obsequies 
were attended on Tuesday last by a nu- 



merous concourse of people." Mr. Bass's 
remains have been removed from their 
original resting place to the Swan Point 
Cemetery, where they lie with those of 
other ministers of the First (Unitarian) 
Congregational Church. 

Mr. Bass published, (1751,) " A True 
Narrative of the late unhappy contentioQ 
in the church at Ashford." There was a 
reply to this in 1752 by Rev. Samuel 
Niles of Braintree, Ms., which he (being 
then 78 years old) " delivered as his dying 
testimony." Li 1 753 Mr. Bass published 
" A Letter to Mr. Niles, with remarks on 
his dying testimony." 

Mr. Bass married Nov. 24, 1742, Mary, 
daughter of Samuel Danielson of Killing- 
ly, and had children — John, Mary, John, 
Sarah, James, and Samuel, of whom the 
two latter settled in Providence. 

Rev. Timothy Allen was born in 
Norwich, Sept. 1, 1715, son of Timothy 
and Rachel (Bushnell) Allyn, graduated 
at Y. C. 1736, and A. M. 

He was first ordained pastor at West 
Haven in 1 738, but for some little impru- 
dences of speech was dismissed by the 
Consociation in 1742. This was in the 
time of the Great Awakening, and Mr. 
Allen seems to have become one of the 
learling " New Lights," as the more stirring 
preachers were called. He was for a 
while the teacher of a kind of theolosical 
school in New London, called *' the Shep- 
ard's Tent." He probably officiated tem- 
porarily in many pulpits in diflerent States. 

At last he settled again in Ashford, 
being installed Oct. 12, 1757, and remain- 
ed in this charge nearly seven years, being 
dismissed Jan. 13, 1764. After another 
considerable interval we find him again at 
Chesterfield, Ms., where he was installed, 
June 15, 1785, in the seventieth year of 
his age. The Church having expressed 
their desire that Mr. Allen should preach 
the sermon at his own installation, he did 
so. His stipulated support ceased May 1, 
1794, though he was employed to prt^ach 
a number of Sabbaths afterwards, and 
was not formally dismissed till 1 796. He 



1859.] Churches and Mtdsters in Windham Co., Ct. 



267 



died in Chesterfield, Jan. 12, 1806, in his 
9l8t year. 

Mr. Allen, When living in Chesterfield, 
was a venerable old man of large stature 
and somewhat fleshy. His manners were 
eccentric, and he was rather careless in 
his dress. He had the reputation of learn- 
ing. Dr. Trumbull calls him a man of 
genius and talents, of strict morals, and a 
powerful and fervent preacher. The Con- 
sociation boasted at his dismission that 
they had put out one "new light," and 
would blow them all out But his light 
continued to shine for many years after- 
wards. 

Mr. Allen published these pamphlets : 
^' Common Sense, in some free remarks on 
the efliciency of a moral change." " The 
Main Point, a discourse on The Just shall 
live by faith." " A Sermon at the Dedi- 
cation of a Meeting house in Chesterfield." 
•* An Answer to Pilate's Question, What 
is truth." " Salvation of all men, put out 
of all dispute." " An Essay on Outward 
Christian Baptism." 

Mr. Allen married (1) Mary Bishop, 
who died about 1757, and (2) Mrs. Doro- 
thy (Gallup) Reed, who died in 1804. 
His children, all by his first marriage, were 
a son, who died at 21 years of age, and 
five daughters, who all married and had 
considerable families, viz. Mary, Evan- 
gely, Fanny, Harmony, and Theodamy. 

Rev. James Messinger was born 
Dec. 14, 1737, — probably the son of Rev. 
Henry and Esther (Cheevers) Messinger, 
of Wrentham, Ms. He graduated H. C. 
1762,— was called to Ashford Nov. 1768, 
and ordained Feb. 15, 1769. 

He died Jan. 6, 1 782, leaving a widow 
without children. Her original name was 
Elizabeth Fisher. After the death of Mr. 
Messinger, she married Benjamin Hay ward 
of Woodstock, and died in 1814. 

Rev. Enoch Pond was the eldest son 
of Dea. Jacob Pond, of Wrentham, Ms., 
where he was born April 27,1756. He 
graduated B. U. 1777, and A. M. He en- 
tered the American army for one year, and 
served as Enngn in Col. Lee's regiment 



On the expiration of his term of enlist- 
ment, he was employed some years as a 
school-teacher with great acceptance. He 
then studied theology with Dr. Emmons, 
and was settled at Ashford, Sept. 16,1789. 
In this post he continued till his death by 
consumption, Aug. 6, 1807. Mr. Pond's 
ministry was marked by several powerful 
revivals, one of which, in 1798, added 80 
members to his Church. He is reported 
a man of amiable character, pleasing man- 
ners, fluent speech and real worth. His 
epitaph, by a neighboring minister, runs 

thus : 

Generous in Temper,' 
Correct in Science and Liberal in Sentiment ; 
The Gentleman, the Scholar, and the 
Minister of the Sanctuary, 
Appeared with Advantage in 
Mr. Pond. 
The Church and Society in Ashford were fa- 
vored with his Gospel Ministry 
Eighteen Years. 

In yonder Mcrvd hooM he spent his breath. 
Now silent, senseless, here he lies in death ; 
These lips again shall wake, and then declare 
A loud Amen to troths they published there. 

Mr. Pond married (1) Miss Margaret 
Smith, daughter of Col. John Smith, of 
Wrentham, by whom he had children ; 
Hannah, Lucas, Marcus, Lucas, Betsey, 
Benj. Clark, Jacob, Enoch, Sally, Abi- 
gail, John; (2) Mrs. Mary Baker, of 
Roxbury.* 

Rev. Philo Judson was bom in 
Woodbury, in 1792, a son of Philo and 
Emma (Minor) Judson. He graduated 
Y. C. 1809, and was ordained at Ashford, 
Sept 26, 1811, in which charge he re- 
mained till dismissed, March 27, 1833. 
He was ailerwards installed at Williman- 
tic, Dec. 1834, and dismissed March 21, 
1839 ; subsequently preached at Hanover 
and North Stpnington and Rocky Hill, 
in which last place he was prostrated, 
during a revival, by bleeding at the lungs. 
Mr. Judson still resides at Rocky Hill, 
and has employed himself in selling school- 
books. His pastoral labors resulted in 
large accessions to the churches. He 

1 Blake's Hlitozy of Mendon Aasoolattai. 



268 



Churches and Mmsters in Windham Co., Ct. [July, 



married Carrence, dau. of David Curtiss, 
of Woodbury. 

Rev. Job Hall was born at Pomfret, 
May 11, 1802, son of ApoUos and Betsey 
(Williams) Hall. He graduated A. C. 
1830, and studied theology at Andover, — 
was ordained at Ashford, Jan 15, 1834, 
and was dismissed July 17, 1837. He 
Afterwards acted three years as Agent of 
the Am. Education Society in different 
parts of New England. In this work he 
contracted the bronchitis, from which dis- 
ease he has never recovered so as to 
resume ministerial labor. 

Mr. Hall married Sarah A. Buell, of 
Orwell, Vt., in which place he now re- 
sides. He has been a contributor to 
various periodicals. 

Rev. Charles Hyde was born at 
Norwich, (Bean Hill) a son of James 
Hyde, a local Methodist preacher. He 
began his preparation for the ministry 
while a clerk in New York City, and con- 
tinued it at Newark, N. J., under the 
direction of Dr. Armstrong and Rev. Dr. 
Richar^. He was licensed by the Jer- 
sey Presbytery and ordained by the Pres- 
bytery of Philadelphia, — was first settled 
for nearly six years at Doylestown, Pa., — 
then for about four years from June, 1830, 
at Norwich Falls, over a Church now dis- 
banded. Leaving here in ill health, he 
was for a time Secretary of the N. Y. 
City Tract Society, — then pastor at Ash- 
for^ from Feb. 21, 1838 to June 26, 1845, 
— next pastor at Central Falls, R. I., 
three years, and finally pastor at South 
Coventry from Oct 10, 1849, to June 13, 
1854. Being at that time deprived of 
health and strength, he retired to Elling- 
ton, where he still resides. His wife was 
Mary Ludlow, of New York, by whom he 
has had one son and six daughters. 

Rev. Charles Peabody graduated 
W. C. 1838,— studied theology at Ando- 
ver, — was ordained pastor at Biddeford, 
Me., Dec. 8, 1841, removed thence and 
was minister at Barrington, R. L, — was 
installed at Ashford, Jan. 20, 1847, and 
diflmiflsed Sept 11, 1850, — afterwardfl 



officiated at Windsor, Ms., and at Few- 
nal Vt, — now resident at Biddeford, Me, 
He married Mrs. Almena White, who 
died in 1856. 

Rev. Charles Chamberlain is a 
native of Holliston, Ms^, and son of Enoch 
Jr., and Lucy (Hoi brook) Chamberlain, — 
a graduate of Brown University in 1836, 
where he was tutor in 1837 and 1838. 
He studied theology at Andover and 
Union Seminaries, and with Dr. Ide. 
After laboring two years in Ohio, he re- 
turned to Massachusetts, and was ordained 
pastor in Berkley, July 8, 1842. He was 
dismissed in 1844, and afterwards preached 
in New York, and at Freetown and Men- 
don, Ms. He was installed at Auburn, 
Ms., July 9, 1851, and dismissed in 1854, 
— was installed at Ashford, June 8, 1854, 
and dismissed in 1858, to be installed 
April 14, 1858, over the neighboring 
Church of Eastford. 

He married Miss Bassett, of ProYidence, 
R.L^ 



The Second Church in Ashford, 
(Westford Parish,) was formed Feb. 11, 
1768. Its pastors have been as follows: 

Ebenezer Martin,.... Ins. June 15, 1768 

Dis. 1777 

Elisha Hutchinson,.. Ord. March 19, 1778 

Dis. Sept. — 1783 

William Storks, Ord. Nov. 10, 1790 

Died Nov. 30, 1824 

Luke Wood, Ins. Dec. 13, 1826 

Dis. Sept. 12, 1831 

Charles S. Adams,.... Ins. Jan. 7, 1846 

Dis. April 29, 1858 

Rev. Ebenezer Martin was born at 
Hampton, March 31, 1732, the son of 
Ebenezer and Jerusha (Durkee) Martin, 
— graduated Y. C. 1756, — was invited, 
Oct 11, 1758, to settle in Township No. 
4, of Berkshire County, Ms, — the town 
now called Becket — on a salary of 55 
pounds, with a settlement of 50 pounds 
and a tract of land designated as No. 26. 
This invitation he accepted, and on the 
23d of February, 1 759, was ordained the 
first pastor of the Church in Becket 
Here he remained in charge till the latter 
1 BlAko*t Uiitoxy of M«adoii AMOdatioB. 



1859.] Ckurehea and Mimteri in Windham Co^ Ct. 



269 



part of 1764, when he was dismissed, 
partly in consequence of some troubles 
that had arisen from the ownership of 
Becket lands by non-residents, and partly 
(it is believed) in consequence of some 
indiscretions of Mr. Martin. 

From Becket he removed to Westford, 
where he was installed June 15, 1768, 
being once more the first pastor of a 
Church. Here he continued till some- 
time in 1777, when he was dismissed, not 
without some complaints of unministerial 
conduct, which, however, he met by apol- 
ogy and otherwise, in such a manner as 
to obtain a regular dismission. 

Mr. Martin subsequently removed to 
New York, and lived at different times in 
the counties of Columbia, Saratoga, Che- 
mung, and Broome, and also for a while 
in Tawanda, Penn., — exercising his gifls 
as a preacher in most of these places. He 
died at Union, Broome Co., N. Y., Sept 
1795. His reputation, as gathered from 
tradition, was that of an able, but not 
always wise man, — one who said smart 
things and odd things, that were remem- 
bered sometimes to his discredit and 
injury. 

He married (while in college, it is 
said,) Susan Plumbe, of Milford, and had 
seven sons and daughters, most of whom 
settled in New York. 

An erroneous report has gained some 
currency that one of his daughters was 
the mother of Hon. Martin Van Buren, 
late President of the United States. 

Rev. Elisha Hutchinson was bom 
in Sharon, Dec. 1750, — graduated D. C. 
1775, — was unanimously invited to settle 
in Killingly, but declined, and was ordain- 
ed pastor in Westford, March 19, 1778, 
where he remained till dismissed, on the 
first Tuesday of September, 1783. He 
was next installed in Pomfret, Vt — a 
place then recently settled by colonists 
fix>m the town of that name in Windham 
Co. Here he was installed Dec. 14, 1 784, 
and dismissed Jan. 8, 1797, in conse- 
quence of a division of the people about 
locating a new meeting-hoose. Mr. Hutch- 



inson remained in town some time after, 
and engaged for a while in secular call- 
ings. He aflerwards removed to Hart- 
ford, N. Y., and thence to Coleraine, Ms., 
where he connected himself with the Bap- 
tist denomination, — thence to Susquchan- 
nah, Pa., — afler that to Williamson, N. 
Y., and finally to Newport, N. HL, where 
he died in April, 1833, aged 83. 

He married (1) Miss Jerusha Cad- 
well, of Westford, July 16, 1778, and (2) 

By these two wives he was 

the father of fifteen children, of whom the 
youngest two — twin brothers — are minis- 
ters of the gospel in the Baptist connec- 
tion. A memoir of Mr. H., from the pen 
of Rev. Baron Stow, D.D., can be found 
in the American Baptist Magazine for 
December, 1833. Tradition says that 
some difficulty arose in Westford, out of 
his marriage with a person not deemed 
suitable for a minister's wife, — an impres- 
sion confirmed in after years. 

Rev. William Storks was bom in 
Mansfield, in 1760, son of William and 

(Garley) Storrs, — graduated D. C. 

1 788, and received an honorary A. M. at 
Yale in 1810, — studied theology with 
Rev. Dr. Welch, of Mansfield, and was 
ordained pastor at Westford, Nov. 10, 
1790, in which charge he remained till his 
death, Nov. 30, 1824. During his minis- 
try he enjoyed several revivals, especially 
in 1799, 1809, and 1819,— the latter 
being a powerful work, and resulting in 
the addition of more than 50 to the 
Church. He is spoken of (says his suc- 
cessor. Rev. Mr. Adams, who furnished 
the materials of this sketch,) as an excel- 
lent pastor, a sound preacher — not very 
animated, except in time of revival. The 
inscription on his tomb-stone is, ** Blessed 
are the peacemakers," indicating a prom- 
inent trait in his character. 

Like many of the pastors of his time, he 
served for a short term, in 1808, as a mis- 
sionary to the new settlements in Ver- 
mont He married Miss Abigail Free- 
man Hovey, Dec. 1790, and had six chil- 
dren, who (with the exception of one 



270 



OhuTche^ and Ministers m Wmdhcm Co.y Gt. [ Jult, 



deranged son,) became highly respectable of him may be found in the Congrega- 
members of society. His wife survived tionalJoumal, Feb. 4, 1852. He married 
him many years, and was a woman of Anna, daughter of Bobert Pease, of 



moral and intellectual worth. 

Rev. Luke Wood was born at Somers, 

, graduated D. C. 1803,— was A. 

M. in course, and also at Yale, — studied 
theology with Dr. Emmons, was licensed 
by Hartford North Association, and or- 
dained pastor at Waterbury, Nov. 80, 
1808, where he continued till dismissed, 
Nov. 19, 1817, in consequence of severe 
sickness. On the recovery of his health, 
he spent several months in missionary 
labors in New York, Pennsylvania and 
Ohio. Recalled from this work by the 
fatal illness of a member of his family, he 
engaged in Home Missionary labors in 
New England, and organized the Church 
now existing in Agawam, Ms. He was 
installed at Westford, Dec. 13, 1826, and 
dismissed at his own request, Sept. 12, 
1831. He was next installed at Clinton, 
(then Killingworth) Oct 13, 1831, and 
continued in that connection about five 
years. From thence he removed to 
Queechy Village, Hartford, Vt, where he 
was installed Aug. 26, 1835. Leaving 
that place, he was once more installed, at 
West Hartland, Sept. 19, 1838, but after 
a few yetrs* service there, retired to his 
native town, where he spent the remain- 
der of his days, preaching as occasion 
called, and engaging willingly and accep- 
tably in the instruction of a Bible Class. 
He died Aug. 22, 1851, at the age of 74, 
full of years and labors. 

Mr. Wood was eminently successful as 
a pastor, and did much to heal the wounds 
in Christ's Church, and to build up her 
waste places. His preaching was direct 
and practical in a good sense. A notice 



Somers, and had eleven children, six of 
whom were living recently, — two sons 
physicians, and one a merchant, all in the 
State of Connecticut 

Rev. Charles S. Adams was bom at 
Bath, Me., May 31, 1797, the son of 
Dr. Samuel and Abigail (Dodge) Ad- 
ams, — graduated B. C. 1823 and A. M. in 
course, — studied theology with Mr. Tap- 
pan, of Augusta, was licensed by Kenne- 
bunk Association in 1824, and after 
laboring as a missionary for a while, was 
ordained at Newfield, Me., Sept 17, 1828. 
From this charge he was dismissed for 
lack of support, Dec. 27, 1831, by the 
same council that installed him over the 
Second Church in Wells, Me. From 
this place he was dismissed Jan. 13, 1834, 
to take an agency for the American Edu- 
cation Society. From Feb. 1835, till 
May 1840, he supplied churches in Har- 
wich, Eastham and Dartmouth, Ms. Jan. 
13, 1841, he was installed at Washington 
Village, Coventry, R. L, but was dis- 
missed Nov. 29, 1842, — then took an 
agency for the N. E. Puritan, and after- 
wards a mission to Illinois, from which he 
returned in ill health. He came to West- 
ford, Sept 1844, and was installed Jan. 
7, 1846 ; was useful in securing the erec- 
tion of a new house of worship, but was 
dismissed April 29, 1858, amid consider- 
able agitation and contention. 

Mr. Adams married Miss Jane D. Bar- 
ker, of Georgetown, Me., and has had 
seven children. He has published sev- 
eral sermons, tracts, and poems, and has 
been usefully engaged in teaching. 



1859.] 



A Lesson from the Past. 



271 



A LESSON FROM THE PAST : 
THE PURITAN SABBATH— ITS ORIGIN AND INFLUENCE. 

BY REY. JOSEPH S. CLARK, D.D. 



Of all the legacies that the Puritans 
haYe lefl us, not one will more signifi- 
cantly herald their names along down the 
ages than the Puritan Sabbath. It was a 
rare honor to be called of Grod to rescue 
and replace in the decalogue his Fourth 
Commandment Such was the honor 
conferred on them. Even Luther's refor- 
mation, convulsiYe as it was, did not reach 
the low stratum of degeneracy beneath 
which the sacredness of God*s day lay 
buried. This achievement was reserved 
for that deeper movement in the moral 
world, that purer type of reform, which 
arose in the North of England near the 
close of the sixteenth century. And to 
this hour the idea of remembering the 
Sabbath day to keep it holy, has no bind- 
ing force in any part of continental Eu- 
rope, except where the foot-prints of 
Puritanism are found. Consequently sin 
runs riot, as by special indulgence, on 
the very day designed for its special 
restraint. Instead of being associated in 
pious minds with holy acts, as 

'' D»y of aU the week the best," 

it is really the worst. Compare this state 
of things with a New England Sabbath, 
as it is still observed after two centuries 
of degeneracy ; compare the boisterous, 
mirth-provoking scenes witnessed in many 
parts of Protestant Christendom as oilen 
as this day returns, with that hallowed 
repose which, from long observance, has 
assumed, in our minds, the heaven- 
reflected image of a " rest that remains to 
the people of God." It will convey to the 
most stupid, some faint idea of the obliga- 
tion we are under to those pious fore- 
fathers through whose care so rich an 
inheritance has descended. This bulwark 
of defence to all other good institutions ; 



this great moral breakwater against which 
the restless waves of worldliness surge 
and dash and are driven back, we owe to 
our Puritan ancestors. Under God, we 
are indebted to them for it, as will be 
seen by a glance at its origin and devel- 
opment. 

Chronologically considered, the broken- 
down Sabbath was not the first breach in 
the walls of Zion that the Puritan re- 
formers undertook to repair. " Hitherto," 
says Neal, [Hist Puritans, vol. i., p. 208] 
" the controversy between the Church 
and the Puritans had been chiefly about 
habits, and ceremonies, and Church dis- 
cipline, but now [1594] it began to open 
upon points of doctrine ; for this year Dr. 
Bound published his treatise of the Sab- 
bath, wherein he maintains the morality 
of a seventh part of time for the wor- 
ship of God ; that Christians are bound 
to rest on the Lord's Day as much as the 
Jews on the Mosaical Sabbath, the com- 
mandment of rest being moral and per- 
petual ; that, therefore, it was not lawful 
to follow our studies or worldly business 
on that day, nor to use such recreations 
and pleasures as were lawful on other 
days, as shooting, fencing, bowling,'* &c. 

To one brought up in New England, or 
in Old England either, for the last two 
centuries, it may seem strange that 
^* Christians " could need a treatise to 
enforce such obvious truths, which none 
but infidels, heretics or profligates, will 
now call in question. But it must be 
borne in mind that the Sabbath had been 
losing its sanctity for centuries, till at 
length it had come to be considered less 
sacred than many other days in the cal- 
endar set apart by mere human author- 
ity, and was not so scrupuloosly obeerred 



272 



A lM9(m from the Past. 



[July, 



as those human appointments. Sports, 
which the more volatile among us now 
would find congenial with their hilarious 
propensities on the '* Fourth of July," 
were brought into the Lord's Daj, and 
had not onlj the connivance, but the 
encouragement, of the highest functiona- 
ries in Church and State. On one occa- 
sion, about ten years before this treatise 
was published, '* several persons were 
killed and a great many wounded," by 
the falling of a scaffold in Southwark, 
London, on which a crowd were gath- 
ered to witness these Sabbath sports. 
The lord-mayor, regarding it as a judg- 
ment of heaved for such abuses, sought, 
but could not obtain, the requisite com- 
mission for putting a stop to these pro- 
ceedings, [Strype's Ann., vol. ii., pp. 532, 
583.] Thus the profanations of the Sab- 
bath were not only continued, but were 
continually increasing, when Dr. Bound's 
book came forth, and ** had a wonderful 
spread among the people," Mr. Neal 
goes on to say, " and wrought a mighty 
reformation, so that the Lord's Day, 
which used to be profaned by interludes, 
May-games, morrice-dances, and other 
sports and recreations, began to be kept 
more precisely. All the Puritans fell in 
with this doctrine, and distinguished 
themselves by spending that part of sacred 
time in public, family, and private acts of 
devotion." 

But such a book could not be expected 
to get far without opposition. " The gov- 
erning clergy exclaimed against it as a 
restraint of Christian liberty, as putting 
an unequal lustre on the Sunday, and 
tending to eclipse the authority of the 
Church in appointing their festivals." 
The authority of Archbishop Whitgift, 
and of Lord-chief-justice Popham, were 
both exerted to call in the copies sold, 
and suppress the publication — on the 
ground that ^^ this Sabbath doctrine agreed 
neither with the doctrine of our Church, 
nor with the laws and orders of this king- 
dom ; that it disturbed the peace of the 
Commonwealth and Church, and tanded 



to schism in the one, and sedition in the 
other." [Neal., vol. i., pp. 208-9.] But 
it all availed nothing ; the new doctrines 
(" Sabbatarian errors," they were called 
by the opposition,) were studied more 
than ever in private, and spread like 
** leaven hid in three measures of meaL" 
The greater the Sabbath indulgences 
offered to the people, the leas they were 
disposed to take them, — ^^ as being jealous 
of a design," says Fuller, "to blow up 
their civil liberties." Immediately on the 
death of the Archbishop, Dr. Bound, with 
true Puritan persistency, was ready with 
a second edition, much enlarged, which 
was published in 1606 ; " and such was 
its reputation," says Neal, " that scarce 
any comment or catechism was published 
by the stricter divines for many years, in 
which the morality of the Sabbath was 
not strongly recommended and urged." 
In our Congregational Library is a quaint 
old parchment-covered volume, published 
the same year, entitled " Cases of Con- 
science. Taught and delivered by Mr. 
W. Perkins in his Holy-day Lectures, 
carefully examined by his owne breefes, 
and now published for the common good 
by Th. P. Bachelour of Divinitie ;** in 
which a long chapter is devoted to " The 
Sabboth day," — particularly in answer- 
ing these three questions : (1.) ** Whether 
it be in the libertie of the Church of God 
vopon earth, to alter the Sabboth day 
from the seaventh day, to any other? 
(2.) How the Sabboth of the New Testa- 
ment is to be observed ? (3.) When the 
Sabboth doth beginne ?" As might be 
expected of the spiritual father and theo- 
logical teacher of John Robinson, Mr. 
Perkins sets himself boldly against the 
prevailing sins of his time. The idea 
" that on the Sabbath day (afler the pub- 
lic worship of God is ended, and the con- 
gregation dissolved,) men have liberty 
either to give themselves to labor, or to 
honest pleasures and recreations," is re- 
pelled in the following earnest language. 
" This opinion doth quite abolish one of 
the Commandments of the Decalogue. 



1869.] 



A Luwn from the Pad. 



278 



For it presapposeth all dajrs to be alike, 
this only provided, that the public worship 
of God be solemnly kept Now this may 
be done in any day of the week ; and 
there will be no need of appointing a set 
time for God's service, if all dajrs be equal, 
without any difference or distinction. 
But the Fourth Commandment (for sub- 
stance) is eternal, and reqnirelh (upon 
pains of the curse) both rest from labor, 
and a setting apart of the same rest, to 
duties of holiness and religion. And if it 
command abstinence from ordinary labor, 
then much more from pleasures and 
recreations." 

These extracts will suffice to show how 
this Sabbath reform originated, and what 
necessity there was for it ; as also who were 
actors in carrying it forward, and from 
what quarters it encountered opposition. 
Let the reader imagine the Church party, 
with the King at their head, determined to 
keep out this (so called) rigid, PhariMiical, 
canting Sabbath observance, by inventing 
new sports, and granting new indul<;eneies 
to sin on that sacred day ; and the Puritan 
party equally and still more resolutely de- 
termined to keep themselves 'unspotted 
from the world in this matter, and to use all 
available means to bring others to their 
views, till in the rising fortunes of Puritan- 
ism, and the depressions of prelacy, the 
civil and ecclesiastical powers of the realm 
were both brought, not only tu abolish 
whatever Sabbath breaking statutes had 
been enacted, but to enart others in accoi^ 
dance with the Puritan practice ; — and 
there will be no occasion to pursue this 
branch of the subject farther. He will 
have a correct view of the process throu;»h 
which the Puritan Sabbath got establiHhed 
in the world. 

In forming a correct estim^ite of its influ- 
ence on New England character and insti- 
tutions, we must look at it, not as a dogma, 
nicely compacted among the articles of a 
religious creed, but as a practical verify — 
a real Sabbath observance. So far as we 
can, we must look into the domestic 
circle of a Saturday evening, or a Sabbath 

TOL. I. S5 



morning. We must go to meeting with 
them and observe how many hours are 
spent there, and how they are spent. We 
must examine the old -musty statutes and 
see what laws were passed for the observ- 
ance of the Sabbath, and what punish- 
ments were inflicted for their violation. 
Data like these afford the best, and, in 
fact, the only reliable ground for a correct 
judgment on this subject 

Happily for us, these data, to a limited 
extent, are within our reach. We know 
where and how the May-flower Company 
kept their first Sabbath on these shores ; 
and brief as the record is which an eye- 
witness has left us of that day's doings, 
it speaks volumes.^ It suggests to the 
reflecting mind a scene, which some for- 
tunate painter — destined to immortalize 
his name — will yet sketch, as more truly 
characteristic of Puritanism in its New 
England development, than has ever been 
put on canvas. The boat lying there, of 
a Sabbath morning, on the lonely beach 
of that small island, just within the 
entrance of Plymouth harbor, does not 
belong to a company of pleasure-seeking 
Sabbath-breakers from some neighboring 
port or nook, as, at our point of observa- 
tion in the middle of this nineteenth cen- 
tury might naturally be inferred ; nor are 
those strains of vocal music, which cold 
gusts of the North-west wind bring to our 
ears in broken swells, any other than the 
high-sounding praises of God, going up 
from that group of eighteen Puritans, as 
Dea. John Carver ** lines a Psalm." which 
they all sing with uplifted heart and 

1 In Bradford^fl Journal, lately diMOVenrd in Eng- 
land, and printed by the MaMachunetrB Uiiitorkial 
Society, tlie account in given ttina, luimediately aftvr 
the record of their p4«rilou« eecMpe to Clark's Islaixi 
on that Btoriny Friday night. '* But though thii 
had been a day and night of much trouble and dan- 
ger unto them, yet God gave them a morning of 
comfort and refreshing, (ap usually he doth to his 
children), for the next day was a fair suuMhiDiog 
day, and they found themselves to be on an island 
secure from the Indians, where they might dry their 
stuff, fix their piecex and rcac tbemselTes, and gle« 
Ood thanks for his mercies in their maolluld deliv- 
eranoes. And this being the last day of the week, 
they preparad to keep the Sabbath." 



274 



A Lesson from the Past. 



[July, 



Yoice. But why are they there, under 
the open canopy of heaven, on that raw 
December day? Because it yas jurt 
ther6 that the Sabbath overtook them, 
while searching to find a place of settle- 
ment for themselves and their little ones 
whom they left four days ago at the end 
of Cape Cod, on board the May-flower, in 
charge of a Captiun who begins to talk of 
setting them all ashore on the sand, un- 
less they find a place soon. But how is it 
that, under such a pressing necessity, they 
can spare the time for so much psalm- 
singing, and prayer, and prophesying? 
Do they not know that works of '* neces- 
sity and mercy " are lawful on that day ? 
Tes, but they do not believe that their 
present necessities are sufficient to justify 
a suspension of the Sabbath law, in the 
sight of God. They are even more scru- 
pulous than that; rather thaii approach 
the Lord's Day under such bodily exhaus- 
tion as will unfit them for religious wor- 
ship, (an essential part of their Sabbath 
observance,) they would spend the whole of 
Saturday in recovering tired nature from 
extra fatigue, and preparing for the Sab- 
bath, — as they actually did ! 

Here we have the Puritan Sabbath, 
not as discussed in a learned treatise ; 
not as explained in a catechism ; not as 
enforced in a sermon ; but as actually 
keptf and that, too, under circumstances 
which exclude all suspicion of any sham 
observance — any mere pretence of relig- 
ious strictness. We may be sure, after 
examining this specimen of Sabbath keep- 
ing, that no ordinary event would inter- 
rupt the Sabbath rest or the Sabbath 
worship of such men ; that once fairly 
settled, and their social customs developed 
in the daily walks of life, these fathers of 
New England would come nearer than 
any others on earth to that Scripture 
ideal of ** turning away thy foot from the 
Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my 
holy day ; and calling the Sabbath a 
delight, the holy of the Lord, honorable/* 

Another specimen, different in kind, 
but of like significance, was furnished in 



the month of March fallowing, when the 
first opportunity was afforded them ot 
negociating a treaty and opening a traflk 
with the native tribes, which they had 
eagerly desired to do ever since their 
landing, but which they must now decline, 
because U is die Sabbath I Whether 
those five stalwart Wampanoags, who 
have come to Plymouth with skins on 
purpose to trade, can be made to nnder^ 
stand why ** nothing must be said or 
done about trade at this time ;" wither, 
if they be made to understand, they will 
even then appreciate the reason for inch 
refusal, or feel insulted by it, as tliey 
march ofiT mute, with their valuable peltry 
on their backs; whether another such 
opportunity will ever occur for negociating 
a business so vital to their interests ; and 
if so, where or how it will be brought 
about; — these questions may have risen 
in their minds, and probably did; bol 
they saw in them no sufficient cause for 
secularizing the Sabbath. The *^ neces- 
sity *' which, in their view, would warrant 
such a thing, was not to be measured by 
dollars and cents. ** Thou shalt honor 
Him, not doing thine own ways, nor find- 
ing thine own pleasures, nor speaking 
thine own words,'' was their ready answer 
to all such questions of casuistr}'. 

The legislation of those times sheds 
some light on the Puritan Sabbath, though 
less than might be supposed. The old 
adage, that ** bad morals beget good laws," 
was verified in the Parliamentary acts of 
England as soon as the Puritans came 
into power. Not only were those profane 
sports abolished which had crept into use 
under royal and prelatic sanction, but 
statutes of an opposite and counteracting 
tendency were passed. It was resolved 
by the lower House as early as 1641, 
** That the Lord's Day should be duly 
observed and sanctified ; that all dancing, 
or other sports, either before or after 
Divine service, be forborne and restrained; 
and that the preaching of God's Word be 
promoted in the aflernoon, in the several 
churches and chapels of this kingdom.* 



1859.] A Lemn from the Pari, 276 

[NeaL, toL i., S91.] But among the first worship. Nor did they alwajrs fall much 

settlers of New England there was scarcely short of it. Of^en, like John in Patmos, 

any call for such legislation, so universal they were *' in the Spirit on the Lord's 

was the custom of remembering the Sab- 'Day." Though pretending to no apoca- 

bath day to keep it holy. There was lyptic visions, the eye of faith, t>urged from 

indeed a plantation commenced at Mount earthly films by consecutive hours of 

Wollaston, in Braintree, under Episcopal intense devotion, caught glimpses of things 

auspice^ where Sabbath sports were scarcely less enrapturing. What need 

indulged to the full extent of King James* had such men of a law to regulate their 

recommendation. But one of the first Sabbath observance, when it was without 

official acts of Governor Endicott, on his law, and, in some sense, against law, that 

arrival at Salem, was to visit the spot, they had risen so far above the Sabbath- 

** rebuke " the inhabitants ** for their pro- keeping standard of the centuries pre- 

fimeness," admonish them " to look to it ceding ? We do the Puritans great 

that they walked better," cause their injustice to suppose that, in their strict, 

** Maypole to be cut down," and change punctilious life on the Liord's Day, they 

** Merry Mount " (as they had named the were acting under any other constraint 

place) into ** Mount Dagon." [Morton's than that of the love they bore to the 

Memorial, p« 91.] All this was so accord- Lord of the Sabbath, — which did indeed 

mnt with the spirit which reigned here at constrain them to keep their hearts and 

the time, that no specific legislation was hands disencumbered, as far as possible, 

needed to authorize the step. Fines of from the world, that they might the more 

three to thirty shillings are occasionally readily ** be filled with al( the fulness of 

found in the early Colonial records, with God ;" and which, by imposing a truce on 

sometimes the addenda of ** stocks," or their social intercourse, left them more 

^ s^pes ;" but most of the laws on this free to commune with Christ When, in 

subject which have become associated in accordance with the prevailing usage in 

our minds with the Puritan age, came in New England, they suspended all secular 

at a later day; and so far from illus- toil at the going down of the sun on Sat- 

trating its spirit, serve rather to mark its urday, and began their Sabbath service 

decline, by shoiring a necesnty for legal with an evening prayer, a psahn, and a 

interference, of which there had been no season of solitary self-examination, it was 

prerious need. with more gladness of heart than that 

That Puritanical observance of the which Bums ascribes to the ** Cotter's " 

Sabbath, which, in the second and third children on coming home after the week's 

generations of New England planters drudgery is over, to exchange salutations 

began to require some gentie • stimulant around the old hearth-stone, and receive 

from civil legislation, and which to us anew the paternal benediction.^ In like 

seems so painfilUy strict, with tiie first x ThtPoritan. did not .11 eonunenc their Sabtath 

comers was the most spontaneous and onBatnrdajerenlDg. Mr. W. Ptrrkina, in his ** Caact 

gladsome afiair in the world. It was lit- of Oonadv&oe," aliwdj rrfbrrad U>, argUM stronffly 

erally " a delight, the holy of the Loni, ^ *7 "'*T!l""*"' "^ '''"TH'^T " ^"^ 

J "^ ^ J , ' morning and m to continua till tba next morning, 

honorable." Almost any words which and not in tho OTening tm tho trvnhig." [Book 11., 

would express their ideas of heaven and ehap. 16.] Th« Tiawi of Mr. BoMnaon, his thcoiogi. 

its occupations, would also describe their «^ i~p"» "• !?'?!!^"''~^ '"**' ^ "*^ 

A. xv o vu av J 'x. ^ • ••qwjnt oiaga of his Chnroh at Plymooth maj bo 

▼lews Of the babbath and its ftrvices. tok0nassaohan«pwmlon,-whlchisqult«asllkd7 

As they participated in its rest and relig- to ha?t bean dnlTad from John Cotton, whoot opln- 

ious rites, they aspir«d to realize that k» on aii sooh points was n^u nigh snpwmo in tht 

^^ _^ , . , ' ^ ix. 1 /> Now England ohnvohM. This old custom of kasplng, 

-rest which remains to the people of „ p-uodto, »o k«p, btatov ««•»• - pitS 



276 A LaSLon from Ut PmI. [Jmt, 

manner, with a keen ipirilual relish for thing of the ways and worslup of God, 
" holy " time, " holy " ftcte, " holy " plea- therein the power of religion or godUoMi 
wres, they arose the next monilng earlier bath been exjircssed ; anything that bath 
than on other days, revolving in their represented the holiness of the go«p«l and 
heartsthcwordsof David," Awake up.my the author of it; anything that looked 
glory ; awake, psnltry and harp ; I myself like s prelude to the everlaaljng Sabbath, 
«ill awake early." With no more labor and rest with God, which we aim through 
than was barely sufSfiunt to supply food grace to come uuto,— it bath been there, 
for themselves and their cattle, whii.'h had and with them, where, and among whom, 
been provided as far as migl^t be on the the Lonl's Day hath been held in highest 
"previous day; with as few and noiseless estetin, and a srriet observation of it 
steps as possible, both in-doors and out ; atti^nded unto, as an ordinance of our 
with but little talking, and that in a sub- Lord Jcsub Christ." These expresaioD^ 
dutsd voice ; ibey entered upon a round of which have particular reference to Sab- 
private meditation, family devotions, and bath keeping on Ibe other side of the 
public worsbip. which engaged their de- water, might have been applied with 
lighted and unflagging souls till the suu additional emphasis to the observance of 
weitt down, — an event which usually that day here, where it had btconie a 
lonnd them with Catechism in hsjid, or standingproverb, that "our whole religion 
rapenting the sermons of the day. fares .icconiing to our Sabbaths; that 
Such, in brief, was the Puritan Sab- poor Sabbaihs make poor Christiaos, and 
bath, u actually kept by nine-tenths, if a slrietness in our Sabbaths inspires ■ 
not by ninety-nine hundredths, of the first vigor in all our other duties." [Sm 
tattlers of New England. And mighty Mather's Life of Eliot] It was in illuf- 
haa been its influence in moulding New tralion of this Irmh that Giles Firmin, in 
England character and institutions. It a sermon before Oliver Cromwell and th« 
could not have been otherwise with a Briti.sh Parliament, said of New England, 
Kcial usage bo marked, repeated so "1 have lived in « countr; leven yean, 
oflen, and getting such firm hold on the and all that time I never heard one pro- 
heart and life of the whole community, fane oath, and all that time never did na 
It bad a strengthening and subtending a man drunk." We have no donbt that 
influence on themselves. If Puritanism cases of profanity and drunkennesi ex- 
brought in the Sabbath, the Sabbath isted; but bad the reverend gentlemen 
braced up Puritanism and prolonged its found them, as they occauonally turned 
reign. Whether we regard it in the light up in criminal courts, they would not 
of a catise, or an effect, it was inseparably have weal^ened the force of lus reasoning, 
connected with some of the noblest traits but rather have strengthened it ; for thejr 
and grandest achievements of the age. would have proved that such are just the 
" For my part," sud the renowned John persons to break the Sabbath. It is a 
Uweo, who had the best opportunities for singular, but significant fact, that no indi- 
knowing the facta, " I must not only say, vidual is noticed in the early colonial 
bnt plead, whilst I live in this world, and records as compluned of for vioiaiiog the 
leave this testimony to the present and Lord's Day, who does not also stand 
future ages, that, if ever I have seen any- charged, either there or elsewhere, with 

•om> wiyi lata thi pruiiit nntarr, bu ntMlj or '^^^'^ misdeeds. For example, the fint 

qolta tmMta.-aot u miub, u ]■ iiDp»d, frma lu notice of a Sabbath desecration found in 

^^'^''«.,^t'A«"'i'-Th'^«rd^<^™ ^•"iishi- the Plymouth Court Records, is entei«d 

Ibo«'*ci!-i, ■■Vh.'UbuL^tobJn'-h.r."^ thus;— " June 6, 1638. Web Adey, being 

oniiiiu; itji iMfiB, soaMdiDi to Eti* erdu Mil presented for a breach of the Sabbath, bj 

woontortiMCiiiiiohwiuniawsiiv.." working two Kvenl Sabbath <Ujt,m» 



185d.] 



A Lesson from the Pari. 



^7t 



after the other, and for disorderly living 
in idleness and nastiness, is censured by 
the bench to sit in the stocks during the 
pleasure of the bench ; and if he cannot 
procure himself a master that will take 
him into his service betwixt this and the 
next Court of Assistents, that then the 
Governor and Assistents provide a master 
for hiuL" This working on the Sabbath 
and living in laziness through the week, 
gives us a true picture of the moral de- 
basement stamped upon the neglecters of 
the Sabbath at that time in New England. 
As the excellent of the earth were uni- 
formly found among its strictest observers, 
io the vilest were always trampling its 
■anctity in the dust 

By reflecting on &cts like these, we 
discover how mightily the Puritan Sab- 
bath moulded New England, and how 
manifest the foot-prints of its early and 
all-pervading influence still are. Those 
institutions of ours, whether domestic, 
aocial, or religious, which are most highly 
prised by us, or praised by others, had 
never got established nor been continued, 
without the fostering aid of just such a 
strict, punctilious observance of the fourth 
commandment Indeed, the coming of 
the May-flower IHlgrims to these shores at 
all, was mainly due to their attachment 
to the Sabbath, and the difficulty they 
found in changing the old habits of the 
Hollanders into conformity with theirs, — 
** insomuch that in ten years time, whilst 
their Church sojourned amongst them, 
they could not bring them to refonn the 
neglect of observation of the LfOrd*s Day 
as a Sabbath," nor keep their own &mi- 
lies from the surrounding infection. This 
is given by Secretary Morton as the first 
of five reasons which induced them to 
emigrate. Subsequent comers had simi- 
lar reasons for seeking the wilderness. 
During the ** Puritan Commonwealth," 
or down to the end of the colonial char- 
ters in 1692, the Sabbath was the ^inal 
column of the body politic ; and to this day 
the moral brace of the whde system is 



mainly derived finom what remains of the 
same column. That it has been sadly 
weakened in its influence on the masses, 
cannot be questioned by any one who 
will compare the present with the past 
Yet is there left to it an efficiency which 
no mere human contrivance ever had — a 
power for good, which proclaims that it 
originated in heaven and was made for 
man. As an alleviation from the killing 
effect of incessant toil — giving to the 
physical nature a chance to exert her 
recuperative power — the testimony of Dr. 
John Richard Farre before the British 
House of Commons, in 1882, expresses the 
unanimous opinion of the most intelligent 
physicians in all lands: that **the sab- 
batical appointment is to be numbered 
among the natural duties, if the preserva- 
tion of life be a duty, and the premature 
destruction of it a suicidal act" *This he 
said ** rimply as a physician, and without 
reference at all to the theological ques- 
tion ; but," he adds, ** if you conrider 
further the proper effects of real Chris- 
tianity, namely, peace of mind, confiding 
trust in God, and good will to man, you 
will perceive in this source of renewed 
vigor to the mind, and through the mind 
to the body, an additional spring of lifo 
imparted from this higher use of the Sab- 
bath as a holy rest" As a humanizing, 
civilizing agency, adapted to soften the 
asperities of a fallen race, and to de- 
velop that amenity of character, which, 
next to the grace of God, is the highest 
adornment of social life, nothing will com- 
pare with those Puritanical observances 
of the Lord's Day which not only inter- 
mpt the current of woridliness — ^but bring 
togedier all the different grades of society 
on a common level^with united hearts, 
in pursuit of a common object As a 
means of converting the soul, and wean- 
ing it from earth, and fitting it for heaven, 
there is a power in the pious observance 
of the Sabbath, rendered the more visi- 
ble in the utter powerlessness of all other 
means, while this is willfojly 



m 



John WtekUf^s Idfe md Opmians. 



[July, 



JOHN WICKLIFFE: 
A SKETCH OP HIS UFB AND OPINIONS. 



BT OEOBOS PUM CHARD. 



[W« M* pemiltod by th* antlior to plaot upon 
o«r |MfM the fcUowing AbridgtinMit of tho WTenth 
ftod eighth ehapten of a forthoomlng and much Im- 
prored edition of his Hirokt op CoROKUATioif alum . 
The whole ealijeet haa been InTcatlgated de now, 
the book almoet eotlxely tewritteo, and enough new 
matter added to iwell the original Tolume into two 
or three. He has spared no pains, having actually 
■pent more than three years' time in bringing for- 
ward this edition ; wliioh, we ean assure the public, 
will oome forth the most teamed and complete Tiew 
of the snl^t, that has cTer appeared.— Eds.] 

John Wickliffe, ** honored of God 
to be the first preacher of a general refor- 
mation to all Europe/' as Milton says; 
and *' the modern discoverer of the doc- 
trines of Congregational dissent/' deserves 
a prominent place in the history of Con- 
gregationalism. Neither the time nor the 
place of his nativity are certainly known. 
He was probably born about 1324, near 
Richmond, in Yorkshire, England.^ 

Of Wickliffe's youthful history nothing 
is known. It is said, that he was early 
devoted to the Church, and was entered 
at Queen's College, Oxford, in 1340, when 
he was about seventeen years old ; and 
that he afterwards removed to Merton 

1 The London and Westminster Review, No. ], 
1887, contalDs a Talnable article on Wiekliflb, in 
which be is called " the modern diaooTerer of 'the 
doctrines of Congregational dissent.^' 

The name of the Reformer is spelt in almost every 
oonceiyable way, as: — Wielif, Wioliff, Wyelif, 
Wyeliff, Wyeliffe, Wycclyfl; Wiekleif, WiclEliir, Wick- 
liflfo, he. ke. 

The time of his birth is ooojeetural. Lewis, his 
earUeet biographer, says that " he was bom, Tery 
probably, about the year 1824." Leland, in his 
Itinerary says : " They say John ^clif, bnreticus, 
was born at Sprsswril, [Hipswell] a poore village, a 
good myte from Richmoni." — Vol. v., p. 114 of folio 
edition. 

Yanghan, WIcklUEB^s latest biographer, says he was 
bom at the small village of Wyeliffe, about six miles 
fh>m Richmond. Compare Shirtey^s Introduction to 
" Faseieuli Zixanionmt Magistri Johannu Wydif,^^ 
pp. z— zii. Lond. 1868; and Whitaktr't Richmond 
rttrv, YoL L pp. 90, 297-6, ndYol IL pp., 41-42. 



College, for the sake of better opportuni- 
ties of study. But, we really know noth- 
ing of bis connection with Oxford until 
about 1361, when we find him master, or 
warden, of Balliol College. In 186S-5, 
1374-5, and in 1380, he was also residing 
in rooms in Queen's College. Wherever 
he may have spent his early years, it is 
quite evident that they were devoted to 
close study ; so that one of his bitterest 
enemies, Knighton, a contemporary, de- 
clared him to be '* second to no one in 
philosophy, and in scholastic accomplish- 
ments altogether incomparable." He was 
also familiar with civil and ecclesiastical 
law, and with the municipal laws and cus- 
toms of his own country. His varied, ex- 
tensive and accurate knowledge enabled 
him to stand without a rival in the public 
disputations, which were then in high re- 
pute ; and procured for him the highest 
reputation in the university, and in the 
kingdom generally. This reputation for 
logical acuteness and scholastic learning 
gave his peculiar theological opinions 
great influence. These were formed chief- 
ly by a diligent study of the sacred Scrip- 
tures. In the knowledge of these, Wick- 
lifie excelled all his contemporaries, and 
earned from them the enviable title of The 
Evangelical Doctor, or Gospel Doctor, 
But in bis devotion to the inspired volume 
he did not neglect the Fathers of the 
Church: Augustine, Jerome, Basil and 
Gregory, appear to have been his favorite 
authors among the primitive writers ; and 
Grosseteste and Fitzralph among the mod- 



erns." 



« Vauthan, vol. i., p. 284; U Bos, p. 108 ; MS* 
iMT, cent, ziv., oh. 8. Fox, blcs. iv. and v., paitieii- 
larly voL 1., p. 484, fbUo edition, 1684 ; Cbtfter.vol. 
Ili., p. 189. See alio FoMdaOi^ Intr. pp. 12, 88. 



1859.] 



John WiekUff^s I^e and Opinions. 



279 



It 18 impossible for us in this age of 
scriptural intelligence duly to estimate the 
strength of mind, the depth of principle, 
and the intrepidity of the man, who, in 
the fourteenth century, could break away 
from Duns Scotus, Peter Liombard, Aris- 
totle, and ** Mother Church,** and form his 
theological opinions from the word of God, 
aided by the lights of the fourth century. 
A writer of the twelth century, quoted by 
Prof. Le Bas, tells us, that in his day — and 
it was not materially otherwise in Wick- 
lifie*8— those teachers who appealed to the 
Scriptures for authority were **not only 
rejected as Philosophers, but unwillingly 
endured as clergymen ; nay, were scarcely 
acknowledged to be men. They became 
objects of derision, and were termed The 
bullocks of Abraham^ or the Asses of 
, Balaam.'* Fox, the martyrologist, thus 
describes the church and the world at the 
lime of Wicklifle*8 appearance : ** This is 
without all doubt, that when the world was 
in a most desperate and vile state, and 
lamentable darkness and ignorance of 
God*8 truth overshadowed the whole earth, 
this man [Wicklifie] stepped out like a 
valiant champion.** ^ Scripture learning 
and divinity was known but to a few, and 
that in schools only, and there also it was 
almost all turned into sophistry. Instead 
of the Epistles of Peter and Paul, men 
occupied their time in studying Aquinas, 
and Scotus, and Lombard, the Mnster of 
Sentences. The world, leaving and tor* 
taking Grod*s spiritual word and doctrine, 
was altogether led and blinded with out- 
ward ceremonies and human traditions. 
In these was all the hbpe of obtaining tial- 
▼ation fully fixed, so that scarcely any- 
thing else was taught in the chunhes.**^ 

In the midst of this gross darkness, and 
in defiance of all this contempt tor God's 
word, John Wickliife beeame a diligent 
student of the Bible, and a constant ex- 
pounder of its sacred contents. Some 
three hundred of hin manuscript homilies, 
or expository discourses, are still premsrved 
in the British Museum, and in the lit>rarie8 
1 Acts tmd MpMwnmM, bk. ▼., ▲. D. UTO-lttoT* 



of Cambridge and Dublin, and in other 
collections. 

This intimate acquaintance with the 
truth of God opened the eyes of the faith- 
ful student, to the falsehoods of men. He 
began to see the inconsbtencies, absurdities 
and iniquities of those who were the spirit- 
ual guides of the people. And what he 
saw, he dared to speak ; and what he spake 
was not in doubtful tero^s. His first pub- 
lication is assigned to the year A. D. 1S56, 
when he was in bis thirty-second year. 
The nation at that time had been suffering 
for several years under a grievous plague : 
probably more than one hundred thousand 
of his countrymen had fallen before the 
destroyer, and '' men*s hearts were failing 
them for fear, and for looking after those 
things which [had ,coroe] on the earth." 
The devout, and perhaps ttomewhat exci- 
ted mind of Wicklifie regarded this awtul 
pestilence as the servant of an angr}* God, 
sent forth to chastise the nation for its sins, 
and to announce the commencment of** the 
last age ** and the speedy approach of the 
end of the world. Under these impressions, 
he published a tract, bearing the title : 
** De Ultima jEtate Ecclesia** Concerning 
the Last Age ot the Church.* In this work 
he boldly invei^shs against the worldliness, 
the rapacity, the sensuality, the simony, 
and the utter degeneracy of the clergy ; 
and denounces them as blind guides, who, 
instead of leading th«i people by precept 
and example into the ways of truth and 
holiness, had plunged them into the abyss 
of sin and crime. Thus the Reformer 
fairly launched forth among the stormy 
3lements. whose bufietings 'he was des- 
tined long to endure. 

About four years after this publication, 
in 1S60, WickllfiTe was found in the front 
rank of opposition to the Mendivants.* 

* Some of WIekHffe'i btogrmpbera Msign thki pab- 
lieftcloD an Mrlttr date— wbMi b« wu shoot t«r«ntj- 
flre ytmn old.— I follow FatifAan, ro\. 1., p. 341. 
SkirUf, iDtr. to fkwIeiiU, denlM tbal Wickllffo 
wrot« thii fraee.— p. 18. 

• Th« tiile of ** MfniiemfU$ ** Ip givm to tbo ii«- 
BMRms ordam In tho Romish chwreh who, oadar 
prolHtst of moonetog tht world sad all carthlj 



280 



Jckn Wfik&ffi^ Itfe (md Opimcm. 



[JULTy 



Allunon has alreadjr been made to the 
introduction of these pretended poTerty- 
loving beggars. Under pretence of zeal 
for ** Holy Ohurcb," they spread tbem- 
telves tMckly 07er the kingdom, and 
engrossed nearly all the clerical duties of 
the nation. Travelling continually as they 
did, and numerous as they were, they 
gained access to all classes of society, in 
every section of the country. They were 
the companions and confessors of the rich, 
and the preachers and directors of the 
poor. Ever ready to confess all who came 
to them, and ignorant, as they generally 
were, of the character of those who 
applied for absolution, these Mendicants 
virtually encouraged every species of ini- 
quity. The wicked would say to each 
other, according to Matt. Paris : ** Let us 
follow our own pleasftre. Some one of 
the preaching brothers will soon travel 
this way ; one whom we never saw before, 
and never shall see a|[i;ain ; so that, when 
we have had our will, we can confess 
without trouble or annoyance." Bishop 
Fitzralph makes the following statement 
of the doings of the Mendicant* in Ire- 
land : ** I have in my diocese of Armagh, 
about two thousand persons who stand 
condemned by the censures of the church 
denounced every year against murderers, 
thieves, and such like malefactors ; of all 
which number, scarcely fourteen have ap- 
plied to me or to my clergy for absolu- 
tion. Yet they all receive the sacraments 
as others do, because they are absolved, 
or pretend to be absolved, oy friars."* 

acqaUitlonfl, wer« lioeniwd by the pope to roain OTtr 
the world iinJ make pixMteljtee to Antichrist, and 
■atwlst upon the gifta ef the people, wlthoat haTlng, 
like the regular clergy, any fixed revenaes for their 
support. In thle account of Wlckliffe'a contei«t with 
the Mendlcaatii, I hare but followed the current of 
the hiatory of the times. Mr. Shirley, however, 
Bays theee " are fkct« only by courtesy and repeti- 
tion/*' He thinks that another, contemporary John 
Wickllffe, or WhyteeivTe, of Mayfleld, was the real 
anta«(oni8t, at this time, of the Mendicants. — JFlMei- 
cmU^ Intr. p. 13, and Appendix, 518-38. 

1 Fox''$ Act* and Monum»iU$^ bk. t., where may 

be found the ** conclusions '' of Armachanas(Fit»> 

ralph) agalnsl ^*the begging Mart.'* See also, 

rtmghmi?$ Lif* 0/ ITycH^s, vol. L, p. 2M ; and lbx*s 



Not content with this absorption of the 
duties of the regular clergy, and this en- 
couragement of crime, these voracious 
animals laid hold of every civil office 
within their reach. They even entered 
the Court, in the character of counsellors, 
and chamberlains, and treasurers, and 
negociators of marriages. By their nu- 
merous arts and efforts — ^by lying, and 
begging, and confessing, by frightening 
the ignorant and flattering the rich — 
** within the four-and-twenty years of 
their establishment in England," Matthew 
Paris says, ^ these friars piled up their 
mansions to a royal altitude." * 

A man of Wickliffe's character could 
not contemplate these movements without 
indignation. But that which brought him 
more immediately into conflict with these 

•Mount of monks and monkery, anefont and mMdi- 
»eai, bk. tU., A. D. 028-M&, and bk. It., A. D. U». 

I Matthew of WestminsUir teUs ns, that the FraB> 
ciscans once offered the Pope Ibr^ thooaand dneatt 
in gold (about tlO0,O00) to sanction tho vloUiloa at 
their role respecting property. His llolinoss qnlecly 
took tho ollered bribe, and then sent the lionest 
monks his order, not to Tiolate the rale of St. Fran- 
cis.— Vaughan, ii., 265. 

Fox(bk. tT,A.D. 12a0) preserres a eaostie Uttis 
" Treatise of Oeoffcey Ohaooer's, enatled * Jaek Up- 
land,' " against the Man. Jack, " a simple ploagh- 
man," proposes sundry significant qoestlons to the 
friars, for his own priTate aatisfoction : «. g-.-**^ Whj 
make ye so costly houses to dwell in, slth [alnoe] 
Christ did not so ? ^'~^* IVhy say ye ^t the Qospel 
in houses of bed-ndden men, as ye do in rich men*s, 
that mow [might] go to the church and hear the Oo^ 
pel ? "— " Why covet ye shrifts [confeesionsj and ho- 
ryiog of otn^r mun's pariJhens [parishioners], and 
none other sacrameut that falleth toCnritftian folk ? ** 
** Why ooret you not to bury poor folk among yon, 
sich that they bin most holy, as ye saine tliat ye been 
for your poverty ? '' 

Noewichscanding the overwhelming evidence fur- 
nished by all contemporaneous history, of the deceit- 
ful, araricious, corrupt, and iniquitous character of 
the monkery of WicMiiffe's day, and the mnnilbiit 
fat^t, that the vital iutere8t8 of true religion wwe 
ruthleiisly Siicrificed by the monks, Or. Lir.gard 
speaks of Wickliffe's controversy " with the ditlrrent 
orders of friars'* as '* aflerop, but ridiculoun contro- 
versy ; " and launches forth into a panegyric on the 
'^ seal, piety, and learning" of the ft>urs, by wlxich 
they •"' bad deservedly earued the es'-eem of the pub- 
lic."— i/t*l. JBng., vol iv., ch 2, p. 157. If they 
** had di!«ervedl> earned " anything, Ic was the de- 
testation of all good men. Even Sir Thomas Mors 
sadriasd the monies. 



1859.] 



Opimotu. 



281 



" Black Friars/* * was their encroachment 
on the University of Oxford. The first 
monastery of the Dominicans was erected 
near this ancient seat of learning, and at 
first enjoyed the countenance and en- 
couragement of its professors. It was not 
long, however, before the university had 
reason to deplore the influence of the 
friars. Their acquaintance with all classes 
in society, in all parts of the kingdom ; 
their pretensions to piety ; their influence 
and wealth, enabled them to draw away 
from the university, to their monasteries, 
vast numbers of young men. Many pa- 
rents, unwilling to have their sons enter 
on a life of mendicancy, " were more 
willing," as Fitzralph tells us, ^* to make 
them ^erthe tilyers* [earth tillers], and 
have them, than to send them to the uni- 
versitie, and lose them." The operation 
of these causes, in a few years reduced 
the number of students in Oxford from 
thirty thousand to six thousand. 

It was not to be expected that the uni- 
versity would tamely submit to such en- 
croachments upon its prerogatives. Aided 
by the bishops and the regular clergy, her 
professors had for some time been at war 
with the mendicant army, when, in 1360, 
Wickliffe entered the lists. His earnest, 
bold, and efl'ecdve opposition to these 
depredators secured the gratitude of the 
learned and the esteem of the virtuous 
generally ; and it is not unlikely, pro- 
cured for him the wardenship of fialliol 
College, Oxford, where we find him as 
early as April, 1361. How long he had 
been there, or how long he remained, we 
cannot exactly tell ; but probably not 
long; for, on November 20th, 1356, Rob- 
ert De Derby was warden of Balliol, and 
Wicklifle's immediate predecessor was 
William De Kingston ; and on May 10th, 
1361, Wickliffe was instituted, on the 
presentation of the College, to the rectory 
of Tylingham, in Lincolnshire; and in 

1 This appelUtion tbejr bore from the circumstance 
that their dress wa$ black. When they first settled 
in London, a tract of land was given them by the 
city, which lies along the Thames, and still bears the 
name of Blackfiiars. 



October, 1363, we find him renting rooms 
in Queen's College ; having, in the inter- 
val between these two dates, probably, 
resided some time on his living in Lin- 
colnshire.^ In November, 1368, Wickliffe 
exchanged this living, for that of Ludger- 
shall, in Buckinghampshire, on the pre- 
sentation of Sir John Paveley, prior of 
the Knights Hospitallers of St John ; and 
in April, 1374, he exchanged this, again, 
on presentation of the Crown, in the forty- 
eighth year of Edward HI., for the living 
of Lutterworth, in Leicestershire, which 
he retained to the day of his death. 

During nearly all his professional life, 
Wickliffe appears to have resided a part 
of his time at Oxford, where he rented 
rooms. This, no doubt, was for the pur- 
poses of study. 

His biographers generally, describe him 
as warden, or master of Canterbury Hall, 
about the year 1365 ; and one of his con- 
temporaries, and many of his modern en- 
emies, ascribe to his violent removal from 
that post of honor, by Archbishop Lang- 
ham, in March, 1367 — an act confirmed 
by Urban V., in May, 1370— Wickliffe's 
subsequent opposition to the Pope and his 
clergy generally. But, there is good rea- 
son to doubt whether our John Wickliffe 
was ever warden of Canterbury Hall ; 

> For the proof of these assertions see FaxeievHy 
Introduction, pp. xiT.and xt., notes 4 and 6. 

The full title of this important work, to which I 
shall have occasion to refer Tery frequently, is as 
follows : — " Faseietdi Zizaniontm Magisiri Johan- 
nut Wyeli/cum Tritieo, Ascribed to Thomas Netter,* 
of Walden, ProTincial of the Carmelite Order in 
England, and Confessor to King Ilenry the Fifth. 
Edited by the ReT. Walter Waddington Shirley, M.A., 
Tutor and late Fellow of Wadham College, Oxford. 
Published by the authority of the Lords Commission- 
ers of Uer Majesty's Treasury, under the direction of 
the Master of the Rolls. London : Loogman, Brown 
& Co., 1858." Royal 8vo. pp. Ixxxrii, and 553. 

This work is a sort of contemporaneous history of 
Wickliffe and the Lollards ; though chiefly raluablo 
for the numerous official documents, lUustratiTe of 
Lollardism, which it contains. It has long been well 
known to the learneil, but was nerer before publish- 
ed. The only manuscript of this entire work, which 
has come down to us, wss in the hands of the cele- 
brated bishop Bale, of Ossory, and was loaned by 
him to Fox, the Martyrologist, and was UMd by him 
in compiling hit Acta and Monuments. 



VOL. I. 



86 



282 



John WkkUJVs lafe and OpimoM. 



[July, 



«nd if he was, the fact that he kept up 
hb attacks on the ambition, tyranny and 
avarice of the rulers of the church, and 
the idleness, debauchery and hypocrisy of 
the monks, during the pendency of this 
Canterbury-Hall question, sufficiently re- 
futes thi^ old monkish slander.^ 

The year 1366, when the kingdom was 
threatened with another war with France, 
before it had r^overed from the losses 
and exhaustion consequent on previous 
wars, which had brought glory, rather 
than any solid advantages to England — 
this year was chosen by the pope, then 
much in the interest of France, to demand 
the arrears of the tribute money guaran- 
iteed by King John (A. D. 1213), to save 
himself and the kingdom from the de- 
structive consequences of an interdict 
and excommunication from the Pope. 
John had bound himself and his succes- 
sors on the throne of England, to pay 
an annual tribute of one thousand marks 
in silver. Two of John's successors had 
paid the odious tax — Henry UI. and Ed- 
ward n. ; but Edward III., had refused to 
pay it, and there were now arrearages of 
over thirty years claimed by the Pope. 
In May, 1366, parliament assembled to 
consider this claim, and gave the Pope 
such an answer as set the matter at rest 
forever. 

The minions of the pope, of course, 
denounced this decision of the king and 
parliament; and one of them, a monk, 
• challenged Wickliffe, who was then a 
royal chaplain, to defend his prince and 
the parliament, in the schools of the uni- 
versity. Wickliffe accepted the challenge, 

I Wodeford, a contemporary monk, of the Grey 
Friars order, London, a bitter adversary of Wick- 
liffe, who wrote somewhat extensively againjit his 
opiuions, is believed to be the only contemporary who 
charii^efl our Reformer with never having said any- 
thing againat the monks or po()seftBional clergy until 
afttT hi.< expulsion from Canterbury Hall.— Fa>cici//i, 
pp. 517-18, 523-24. See, however, the argument 
against thi.s pre-iiumption, in Mr. Shirley^s Note on 
the two John Wickliffes— F/wcicu/t, pp. 513-628. 

Lingnrd repeats Wodeford's charge, by Insinua- 
tion.— Vol. iv., ch. 2, p. 159 ; and Collier, too, 
seems willing to believe this old scandal. — vol. ill., 
p. 179 



and stepped boldly forward in defence of 
his country's independence of all vassal- 
age to Rome ; a step as unpopular in 
Borne as it was popular in England. 

It was not far from this time, that Ox- 
ford conferred on Wickliffe the degree of 
doctor of divinity ; an honor which car- 
ried with it the right to read divinity lec- 
tures in the university. * 

This opened to him a new field of use- 
fhlness, which he was not slow to occupy ; 
and gave him facilities for sowing the 
good seed of the kingdom in a fruitful 
soil ; which, in afler years yielded some 
precious fruit 

About this same time, the Reformer 
prepared and sent forth a plain and fa- 
miliar exposition of the Ten Command- 
ments, for general circulation. The ne- 
cessity for such a work may be estimated 
by what he tells us in his preface : — that 
it was no uncommon thing for men *' to 
call God, Master, forty, three-score, or 
four-score years, and yet remain ignorant 
of his Ten Commandments.'' This pub- 
lication was followed by several small 
tracts, entitled " The Poor Catiff," or in- 
struction for the poor ; written in English, 
as the author declaies, for the purpose of 
" teaching simple men and women the 
way to heaven."^ These humble labors 
of the learned professor furnish a beauti- 
ful commentary on his religious character, 
and are in perfect keeping with the envi- 
able title which he long enjoyed of The 
Evangelical Doctor. 

In the year 1374, Wickliffe was called 
from the university into public life. He 
was sent by parliament on an embassy to 
the pope, to obtain the redress of certain 

- Bi.Hhop Bale, and WirkliffeV biographers gener- 
ally, place the doctorate under 1372 ; but Mr. Shirley, 
who^e sp<»cial mission it seems to be, to correct the 
errors of previous writers on Wickliffe, thinks the 
doctorate must have been given to him FOme time 
betw.«nl36l and 136C, probably in 1363.— 8ee Faseic- 
uli, Intro., xv — xviii. 

■'< These tracts, with some other selections ftt)m 
Wickliffe's practical writings, have been published 
by the I^ondon Religious Tract Society. Dr. Tauglian 
give.<* an analvf^in of thi« treatise on the Tea C(m- 
mandments, with extracts from the work, illustnUiTt 
of iU spirit.— !.(/« of Wydiffe, vol. i., pp. S03-U4. 



1869.] 



John WtckUf^s Life and Opimons. 



283 



ecclesiastical grievances nnder which the 
kingdom was then suffering. ^ 

In the chapter preceding this, a brief 
sketch has been given of some of the 
prominent abuses to which the ' Engljsh 
nation was for a long time subject ; by 
which the wealth of the kingdom was ab- 
sorbed by the clergy — mendicant and 
regular — or drained off by the pope. 
These abuses had continued, despite of 
complaints, and protests, and temporary 
resistance. There had long been gather- 
ing in the breasts of the people, a spirit 
of opposition to the tyranny of Rome. 
This with difficulty had been kept under, 
by the united power of the throne and 
the clergy. England had now (in 1374) 
been ruled for more than forty years by 
one of her most accomplished and popu- 
lar monarchs. Edward III., though guilty 
of many arbitrary acts of government, 
had the wisdom, or the policy, to consult 
the opinions and wishes of his subjects 
more than any one of his predecessors. 
He was a hero and a conqueror ; and, as 
such, had acquired great applause and 
influence in that semi-barbarous age. 
Hb numerous warlike expeditions com- 
pelled him to call frequently for supplies 
from his parliaments ; and his good sense, 
or his necessities, induced him to yield 
more to their pleasure, in granting privi- 
leges, and immunities, and protections to 
the people, than had been conmion pre- 
vious to his time. The authority of the 
Great Charter was so oflen confirmed 
during his reign, that it became immova- 
bly fixed as a limitation of the royal 
power. The king was made to feel that 
there was a power under the throne, if 
not above it, whose heavings were not to 

1 See an account of these grieyances, and of the 
abortire embassy of Wickliffe and his associates to 
Ihe pope, then at Arignon, In Vaughany vol. i., eh. 4. 
A summary of the complaints against the papal 
court, urged by the sereral parliaments of Edward 
III., may be found in FoXy bk. t., A. D. 1376. This 
rammary the martyrologist thus quaintly concludes : 
" Whereby it may appearj that it was not for nothing 
that the Italians and other foreigners used to call 
Englishmen—^ood asses; for they bear all burdens 
that wfKm lalA upon thm." 



be despised nor disregarded with impuni- 
ty. The people, for whose benefit all 
government, civil and ecclesiastical, should 
be administered, but who had hitherto 
been least regarded in its administration ; 
who had been trampled upon by their 
princes and nobles, and worst of all by 
their clergy, began now to rear their 
heads and raise their indignant voices. 

With such teachers as John Wickliffe 
and his disciples, the English people were 
likely to understand something of their 
ecclesiastical rights, and to .assert them 
with more courage and success than ever 
before. The people moved parliament, 
and the parliament moved the king — him- 
self no-wise unfavorably disposed — to in- 
quire into the ecclesiastical abuses by 
which the pope and his creatures were 
eating out the vitals of the kingdom. The 
Insult of this inquiry was the discovery 
that more than one half of the landed 
property of the kingdom was in the hands 
of a corrupt and indolent clergy; that 
many of the most lucrative benefices were 
in the possession of foreigners, and some of 
them but boys, who knew not the lan- 
guage of the country, nor had even so 
much as set foot on English soil ; that the 
pope's collector and receiver of Peter's 
pence, who kept *^an house in London, 
with clerks and officers thereunto belong- 
ing, transported yearly to the pope twenty 
thousand marks, and most commonly 
more ; " that other foreign dignitaries, 
holding ecclesiastical benefices in the 
kingdom, though residing in Rome, re- 
ceived yearly an equal, or greater sum 
(twenty thousand marks) for their sine- 
cures ; and finally, " that the tax paid to 
the pope of Rome for ecclesiastical digni- 
ties, [did] amount to five-fold as much as 
the tax of all the profits, as appertained 
to the king, by the year, of his whole 
realm." « 

Such were some of the results of the 
inquiry set on foot by the parliament in- 

« Fox, bk. v., A. D 1376 ; Vaughan, vol. i., ch. 4, 
particularly pp. 882-885 ; CoUon's Alnidg. in llenry*s 
Eng.f vol. viU., 66. 



284 



John WicTdiffis Life and Opinions. 



[July, 



to the ecclesiastical abuses of that age. 
Wickliffe was one of the commissioners 
chosen by parliament to lay these com- 
plaints before the court of Rome. 

The conference with the pope was ap- 
pointed at Bruges, a large city of Austria. 
Thither the English commissioners repair- 
ed. They soon found, however, that they 
had brought their wares to a glutted mar- 
ket. Ecclesiastical abuses were things 
little regarded by the Roman traders. It 
was like carrying coals to New Castle, to 
carry their lyidget of complaints to Bru- 
ges. The mission was, nevertheless, at- 
tended with one advantage — it forced wide 
open the eyes of the Reformer; he no 
longer saw " men as trees walking ; '* but 
he beheld, as with open vision, the full 
grown Man of Sin^ the Antichrist of the 
latter days. On his return to England, 
Wickliffe openly denounced " His Holi- 
ness," as "//4« most cursed of clippers^ and 
purse kervers** (purse cutters) ; and made 
the kingdom ring with his descriptions of 
papal impostures and papal corruptions. 

These bold and violent attacks upon 
the sovereign pontiff and his dissolute 
clergy were neither unnoticed nor un- 
heeded at Rome. The storm of hierarchal 
wrath had long been gathering ; and its 
thunders at length began to mutter over 
the Reformer's head. King Edward was 
now aged and infirm, and nigh unto 
death ; and Richard H., his grandson and 
successor, was a minor. The hierarchy, 
probably deemed this a favorable time to 
attack the obnoxious heretic. According- 
ly, in 1377, Wicklilfe was cited to appear 
before the convocation of the clerg}', to 
answer to the charge of heresy. It was a 
moment of peril to the Reformer. His 
judges were his enemies ; and without 
some better protection than their sense of 
justice would afford, the days of the good 
man's usefulness, and perhaps of his Hfe, 
would have been quickly numbered. At 
this critical juncture, God raised up for 
his servant a powerful friend and protec- 
tor, in the person of the duke of Lancas- 
ter, conunonly known as John of Gaunt, 



so called from the place of his birth. He 
was the third son of E<iward HI., and 
uncle to Richard II., and was principal 
regent of the kingdom during the minoi^ 
ity. Henry Percy, earl marshal of Eng- 
land, also befriended Wickliffe. These 
noblemen bade him be of good cheer; and, 
for his encouragement and protection, at- 
tended him in person to the house of con- 
vocation. Immediately on the entrance 
of the party, a quarrel commenced be- 
tween the high-blooded Percy and the 
bishop of London ; which, from words 
had well-nigh come to blows. This per- 
sonal quarrel between my lord clerical 
and my lord secular so disturbed the pro- 
ceedings of the convocation, that it soon 
broke up in confusion, and its victim es- 
caped untouched. 

During the same year (1377), parlia- 
ment called on Wickliffe to give his judg- 
ment on the question : — " Whether the 
kingdom of England, on an eminent ne- 
cessity of its own defence, might lawfully 
detain the treasure of the kingdom, that 
it mijjht not be carried out of the land ; 
although the lord pope required it, on 
pain of censures, and by virtue of the 
obedience due to him ? " This question, 
so illustrative of the exorbitance of the 
pope and of the rising spirit of the na- 
tion, Wickliffe answered boldly in the 
affirmative. ^ 

These repeated good offices for his 
country, though they rendered the Re- 
former eminently popular in England, 
were treasuring up wrath for him in 
Rome. Before the close of the year 1377, 
the thunders of the Church were again 
pealing over his head. No less than four 
bulls were let loose by the pope against 
" the audacious innovator." In these in- 
struments " Ilis Holiness " laments and 
denounces ** the pernicious heresy " and 
the " detestable insanity " which had in- 
duced " John Wickliffe, rector of the 
church of Lutterworth and professor of 
the sacred page (it were well if he were 
not a master of errors), to spread abroad 

1 Vaugkan^ vol. i., pp. 313-^7. i Fascicuk.^bMia. 



1859.] 



John Wickliff^s Life and Opimona. 



285 



opinions utterly subversive of the church ;" 
and ordered secret inquiry to be made into 
the matters charged against him, £^nd if 
found Irue, the heretic to be immediately- 
seized, and imprisoned, and detained 
** until further directions should be re- 
ceived." Three of these papal bulls were 
addressed to the archbishop of Canterbury' 
and the bishop of London, who cordially 
reciprocated the dolors of His Holiness, 
and eagerly desired to glut their malice 
upon the impudent reformer. But the 
fourth bull, addressed to the university of 
Oxford, met with a very cold reception. 
A fiflh bull, or rather letter, was address- 
ed to the king of England, soliciting his 
aid in suppressing the doctrines of Wick- 
liffe ; which are described as opposed to 
the existence of the church, and to all the 
forms of civil authority. ^ 

The zeal of the primate soon prepared 
another inquisitorial court to try the here- 
tic ; and Wickliflfe was summoned to Lam- 
beth chapel, to give account of himself to 
the ecclesiastical powers. The London- 
ers, who were now " deeply infected by 
the heresy of Wickliffe" — and who, Wal- 
singham affirms, were nearly all Lollards 
— getting wind of what was going on, 
surrounded the chapel of the archbishop, 
and gave such demonstrations of interest 
in the defender of the people's rights, as 
materially to disturb the equanimity of 
the papal conclave. To add to their dis- 
comfiture, in the midst of their delibera- 
tions a messenger arrived from the court, 
positively forbidding them to proceed to 
any definite sentence against Wickliffe. 
Thus, a second time, was the prey deliv- 
ered from the jaws of the devourer. 

These threatening dangers and narrow 
escapes rather inflamed than cooled the 
ardor of the Reformer. He boldly advo- 
cated a thorough reform of the church ; 
and declared his willingness to suffer, and 
die, if necessary, in order to promote this 
desirable end. 

1 Vaughan, Tol. 1., ch. 5., p&rtic. pp. 352-^6. The 
bulls and the epistle to the king may be fouod in the 
Appendix to Vaughariy toI. i., pp. 417-426. See alto 
WWdiu' ConcUia, toI. Ui., pp. U6-U8. 



The death of pope Gregory XI., which 
occurred the next year, 1378, and the 
notorious papal schism occasioned by the 
election of two popes as successors to 
Gregory, saved Wickliffe for some time 
from further molestation. Their Holi- 
nesses were too much occupied in forging 
and fulminating thunderbolts against each 
other, to pay much attention to the Eng- 
lish heretic. This interval of rest from 
persecution was diligently employed by 
Wickliffe in writing ai.d circulating tracts 
and books, in which the corruptions of the 
■ clergy and the anti-christian character of 
popery were unsparingly exhibited. But 
the great work of Wickliffe during these 
years of rest from papal persecution 
(1379-1381,) and that which did more 
than all his other labors to promote the 
truth, and to open the eyes of the nation 
to the anti-christian character of the entire 
hierarchy, and which has handed down 
to posterity the name of this great man in 
the brightest halo of glory, was the trans- 
lation of the entire Bible into the vernac- 
ular language of the country. 

The enemies of the great Reformer, 
ancient ajid modern, very unwillingly 
admit this ; and labor to deprive him of 
this high honor, or to depreciate the 
advanta«:es of this great labor of christian 
love. Thus Dr. Lingard (Hist. Eng., vol. 
iv., chap. 3, p. 196), asserts, that " several 
versions of the sacred writings were even 
then extant " — i. e. at the time Wickliffe 
made his new translation. He admits, 
however, that " they were confined to 
libraries, or only in the hands of persons 
who aspired to superior sanctity." And 
to sustain his assertion, he quotes Sir 
Thomas More's Dialogues, iii., 14. But 
Sir Thomas — who was not bom until 
about a hundred years after Wicklifle's 
death — is by no means unexceptionable 
authority. His object in making the 
assertion, however honest he may have 
been in his belief of its truth, was pre- 
cisely the same as that of Lingard in 
repeating the assertion, viz : to screen the 
Romish Church from the scandal and the 



286 



John Wickliff^s Life and Opinumii 



\3wij 



crime of withholding God's Word from 
the people. But this they fail signally to 
do ; for Knighton, a Romish hi^orian who 
was contemporary with Wickliffe, and 
who doubtless expresses the current opin- 
ion of the churchman of his times, invei^^hs 
bitterly against this rash and presumptu- 
ous measure of the great Reformer, in 
unveiling the mysteries of God's Word to 
the Qyes of the vulgar multitude. He 
says: — 

** Christ delivered his gospel to the 
clergy and doctors of the Church, that 
they might administer to the laity and to 
weaker persons, according to the state of 
the times and the wants of men. But 
this Master John Wyclifie translated it 
out of Latin into English, and thus laid it 
more open to the laity and to women who 
could read, than it had formerly been to 
the most learned of the clergy, even to 
those of them who had the best under- 
standing. And in this way the gospel 
pearl is cast abroad, and trodden under 
foot of swine, and that which was before 
precious to both clergy and laity is ren- 
dered, as it were, the common jest of 
both. The jewel of the Church, is turned 
into the sport of the people, and what was 
hitherto the principal gift of the clergy 
and divines, is made forever common to 
the laity." ^ 

1 Z>« Eventibus, col. 2, 1. 644. To the same effect is 
the decisioD of an English council in 1408, with 
Archbbhop Arundel at its head : *' The translation 
of the text of Holy Scriptures out of one tongue into 
another is a dangerous thing, as St. Jerome testifies, 
because it is not easy to make the Terse in all re- 
spects the same. Therefore we enact and ordain, 
that DO one henceforth do, by his own authority, 
translate any text of Holy Scripture into the English 
tongue, or any other, by way of book or treatise ; nor 
let any such book or treatise now lately composed in 
the time of John Wycliffe aforesaid, or since, or 
hereafter to be composed, be read in whole or in part, 
in public or in prirate, under pain of the greater 
excommunication." — Wtlkins'' Concilia, i\i .,317. The 
spirit of this enactment was evidently that of the 
majority of the clergy in the age of Wickliffe. He 
describes them as affirming it to be *' heresy to speak 
of the Holy Scriptures in English;" but this is said 
to be a condemnation of " the Holy Ghost, who first 
gave the Scriptures in tongues to the apostles of 
Christ, as it is written, to speak the word in all 
laogaagu tb*t wf ordftined of God tuder heaTen." 



This question of priority is ably dis- 
cussed and satisfactorily settled in the 
Preface to the noble edition of Wickliffe's 
Bible, published from the University 
press of Oxford, England. The learned 
editors of that edition avow their convex 
sion to the belief of Wicklifie's claim to 
priority over all others, as a translator of 
the entire Bible into the vernacular of the 
English nation. This was not their belief 
when they began their ipvestigations. 
Influenced by the confident assertions of 
such men as More, and James, and 
Usher, they supposed that earlier transla- 
tions than Wickliffe's had been made. 
But this opinion they were compelled to 
abandon after careful original investigar 
tion. 

John WicklifiTe undoubtedly, then, de- 
serves the honor of having given to his 
country the first translation of the 
whole Scriptures in the English language. 
With great personal labor, and by the aid 
of learned assistants, he wrote out an en- 
tire English version of the Sacred Word. 
Copies of this were multiplied by trans- 
cribers — for there was no printing in those 
days; and the "poor priests," as Wick- 
liffe's preaching disciples were called, 
scattered them over the kingdom. To 
the Scriptures the Reformer appealed for 
the truth of his doctrines ; and men were 
everywhere urged to search the Scrip- 
tures and " see if these things were sa" 

The minions of the hierarchy were in 
the terrors of death when they saw this ' 
light streaming through the land. They 
hated the light, because their deeds were 
evil ; and they would not come to it, lest 
their deeds should be reproved. Wick- 
liffe was denounced as a sacrilegious 
wretch, who had presumed to rend the 
veil from the holy of holies, and expose 
the secret of God's honor to the unhal- 
lowed gaze of the profane multitude. 
For centuries the reading of the Bible, 
by the common people, had been prohib- 
ited. A needless exercise of papal im- 



— Wir.ket. See Vaughan's Li/e of Wycliffe^ vol. iL, 
p. M ; WyclifftH BibUi Pi«fltc«, p. ▼!., Oxford, 18G0. 



••] 



John WickUff^t Life and Opinum. 



287 



to be gare, when the Sacred Treas- 
3 locked up in a language unknown 
mass of the people , and when the 

7 and cost of a single copy was 

8 to defy the ability of nine hun- 
md ninety-nine men in a thousand 
»cure the prohibited book. ^ Still, 
rohibition was a fair exhibition of 

principles; and ^ould not be for- 
by the friends of the Bible, 
while the clergy declaimed against 
ipious version, the '* poor priests ** 
lied and scattered ^* the seed of the 
and the poor people, so long doom- 
endure " a famine of the word 
i," devoured the bread with great 
r : and, like the honey tasted 
mathan in the wood, it enlight- 
the eyea of all who partook of 
enabled them to see, not only the 
it and anti-christian character of the 
system of popery, to which they 
lo long been dupes and willing 
; but it taught them also the coi^ 
n of their own natures, and their 
)f the washing of regeneration. It 
le to the people of England what 
to the children of Israel, when in 
ys of Josiah " the Book of the Law " 
iscovered among the rubbish of the 
3, and was brought out and *' read 
;ir ears" — the means of an exten- 
ivival of pure religion in the nation, 
ikliffe, profiting by the example of 
Ian of Sin, reared up numerous 
lers of his dot^trincs, and sent them 
IS the mendicant orders had at first 
-or rather as Christ's disciples first 
forth — with their staves in their 
and the sacred word in their bo- 
preaching everywhere that men 
I repent and turn from their vanities, 
worship of the onlv livinjz and true 

le notion may h*t furnied of the difficulty of 
a copy of the Bible before Wi kllfle'u tranBla- 
peared, troui tlie fact, thnt Hlchough his Ter- 
*re multiplied beyond any preTioufl precedent, 
iteredoTer erery part of the kingdom — 3et a 
hii) New Teotament alone cofit from thirty to 
lunds, or fiom one hundred and thirty>three, 
hundred and 8eTenty>8«ven dollars, Federal 
— Sm London Encyclopadia^ Art. ScriptOTM. 



God, and to the exercise of faith in the 
only Saviour of man and Intercessor with 
Grod, Jesus Christ the Righteous. And 
so wonderfully successful were these 
preachers, that Knighton, a contempora- 
ry, tells us, that above one half of the 
inhabitants of the kingdom in a short time 
became Lollards, or Wickliffites. 

We are now approaching the end of 
the good man's eventful life. His last 
days, if his beat days, were not the most 
peaceful. Though worn down by inces- 
sant labor, and harrassed by opposition 
and persecution, and admonished by re- 
peated attacks of rickness, he still mani- 
fested no disposition to cease from his la- 
bors ; he seemed resolved to die in the 
harness. During the last three years of 
his life, his mind, his tongue — when he 
could speak — and his pen, were inces- 
santly busy in the great work to which he 
had consecrated himself — the reform of 
the church. His search into the Scrip- 
tures and into ecclesiaj»tical antiquity 
opened the eyes of the Reformer, to see 
more and more of the anti-scriptural char- 
acter of the entire hierarchal system of 
those days. He boldly attatrked the wealth, 
and pride, and pomp, and ornaments of 
the establisihed orders, and his thundering 
artillery threati^ned the utter overthrow 
of the ancient fortress of popery itself. 

Hitherto Wickliffe seems to have en- 
joyed the protection and patronage of the 
court ; and God had used this to keep at 
bay the bulls of Rome. But now, John 
of Gaunt openly forsook his old and faith- 
ful friend. Le Bas attributes this to the 
doctrine about this time (1381) advanced 
by Wickliffe respecting the sacramental 
symbols, viz., that " the consecrated host 
we see upon the altar, is neither Christ 
nor any part of him, but an effectual sign 
of him ; and that transubstantiation, iden- 
tification, or impanation, rest upon no 
scriptural ground." A more probable 
solution of this matter, however, may, I 
think, be found in the fact that Wick- 
litie's doctrines were beginning to threaten 
the Englishj as well aa the Romish hier- 



288 



John WickKf^s Life and Opinims. 



[July, 



archy.* The duke of Lancaster, the earl 
marshal of England, and other noblemen 
were ready to support the Reformer so 
lonjf as his labors tended to break down 
the despotic and destructive power of the 
pope over the kingdom ; but when his 
labors began to threaten a complete 
reformation of the church, these courtiers 
were among the first to cry — " Hold ! 
Enough I" 

What Wickliffe's ecclesiastical views 
were, we shall presently consider. For 
the present, we will pass on to notice the 
immediate effects of the thinrra to which 
allusion has just been made. 

The protection of the great being with- 
drawn from the venerable Reformer, the 
whole pack — 

" The little dogs and all ; 
Tray, Blanch, and Sweet*heart * * 
MaKtiff, grey-hound, mongrel, grim. 
Hound, or tpanii*!, bracb, or lym " — 

— the pope, the king, the archbishop, the 
bishops, the mendicants and friars — were 
immediately in full chase. Their noble 
game was driven from the covert of Ox- 
ford, by order of the king; the archbishop 
procured the condemnation of his doc- 
trines in a synod of the clergy; the 
bishops, by *' letters mandatory " to their 
abbots and priors, clergy and ecclesiasti- 
cal functionaries, required the immediate 
suppression of the impious and audacious 
doctrines of the Reformer. In addition to 
all this, parliament was petitioned to pro- 
vide a remedy against " the innumerable 
errors and impieties of the Lollards ;" a 
royal ordinance was surreptitiously obtain- 
ed by the clergy, empowering the sheriflTs of 
counties to arrest such preachers and their 
abettors, and to detain them in prison 
until they should justify themselves accord- 
ing to law and reason of holy church ; 
and. to cap the climax, the pope himself 
summoned the heretic to appear at Rome, 
and give account of himself to the vicar of 
God.« 

I St^a Talu-ible artirle upon " Con^ retentional Dis- 
senter*," in thu Lonrlon and Weatminutr Review 
for October, 1837. American Ed., toI. It., No. 1. 

s Se« WUkins' Concilia, iU., pp. 162-172. 



Well might Wickliffe have adopted the 
words of his Master : " They gaped upon 
me with their mouths, as a ravening and 
a roaring lion." ..." Dogs have com- 
passed me : the assembly of the wicked 
have enclosed me." But amidst the gath- 
ering storm the good man labored on. 
When driven from the university, he 
found shelter among his affectionate 
parishioners at Lutterworth. Here he 
preached and wrote with unflinching 
boldness and untiring activity. But the 
servant was doing his last work for his 
Master. God protected him and pre- 
served his life while he had work for him 
to do ; but, his task finished, he was now 
to be called home. The incessant labor 
of thirty years had shattered the earthly 
tabernacle, and brought upon the faithful 
laborer a premature old age ; and finally, 
produced a paralysis of all his powers, 
which terminated his invaluaSle life on 
the 81st of December, Anno Domini 1384. 
When the summons came, he was where 
a soldier would always choose to die — at 
his post. He fell as a warrior would 
wish, on the field of battle, sword in hand. 
He was in his church, administering the 
sacrament, when a paralytic shock de- 
prived him of speech and motion. He 
lingered two days ; and then, as we have 
the best reason to believe, slept in Jesus. 
" Admirable," exclaims the quaint old 
historian, Fuller, " that a hare so often 
hunted, with so many packs of dogs, 
should die, at last, quietly sitting in his 
form." ' 

Thus died John Wickliffe, the most 
remarkable man of his age, and one of 
the most distinguished reformers of any 
age. His name and works have long 
been the subjects of the most unquali6ed 
abuse by the violent papist ; and of the 
serni-heriTty praise of the devoted church- 
man.* The Congregational Dissenter, 



3 Chh. Hist , bk Iv., ^ 26. 

« T refer to such men as Mr. .Milner, whone extended 
notice of Wirkliffo's life and labors is open to manj 
objection-', ani in s^me points is manifestly unjust 
and injurious to the memory of the Reformer. In 
reading Milner'i account, one is almost provoked to 



1869.] 



Jolm WichKff^s Life and Opinumt. 



289 



while he admits that Wickliffe was sub- 
ject to human infirmities, and like other 
men liable to error ; that the truth only 
gradually opened upon his mind ; and that, 
even to his death, some of the shreds of 
popery may have clung around him ; — 
while, I say, he admits all this, still must 
he revere John Wickliffe as " the modem 
discoverer of the principles of Congrega- 
tional Dissent" 



ECCLESIASTIOAL OPINIONS OF WICKLIFFB. 

Having claimed Wickliffe as a remote 
ancestor of the Congregational denomina- 
tion, it will be expected that I give more 
fully than bas yet been done, the grounds 
on which this claim rests. ^ 

1. The prominent doctrine of Wick- 
liffe's creed, which allies him to modern 
Congregationalists is — the all-sufficiency 
of the Scriptures. 

His babit of " postulating" or expound- 
ing a portion of Scripture to his parish- 
ioners on the sabbath ; instead of ^^ de- 
claring" or preaching a sermon from a 
single text, or uttering an oration upon a 
particular subject — is a decisive' evidence 
of his high regard for the Scriptures. 
His translation of the Bible into English, 
is a still stronger evidence of his venera- 
tion for the inspired writings. Add to the 
above, the Reformer's own words upon 
this important point. 

In a statement of his opinions, address- 
ed to a Synod assembled at Lambeth, 
*' on the thirtieth court day," 1378, in 

Bay — He damns Wickliffe with faint praise. Prof. 
Le Bas' work is a verj different affair ; be correctB 
'* the historian of the Church " in several particulars ; 
he might have done more. 

Collier's mode of treating Wickliffe gives one the 
impression that he would willingly say less in Wick- 
liffe's fovor, and more against him, if he could hon- 
estly. 

1 In drawing up the following summary of Wick- 
llffe's ecclesiastical opiniomt, in addition to the au- 
thorities so often quoted in preceding pages, I have 
availed myself of a valuable work, entitled '' Tracts 
and Treatises of John De WycUJfe, D.D., with Se- 
lections and Translations from his Manuscripts and 
Latin Works. Edited by The Wycliffe Society ; with 
an Introductory Memoir, by the Rev. Robert Vaugh- 
an, President of the lAucashire Independent College, 
MancheBter. London : 1845," 8to. pp. xdr. and 8S2. 

VOL. I. 87 



obedience to a bull from the pope, dated 
June 11th, 1377, and addressed to the 
Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop 
of London, directing them to commit 
Wicklill'e to prison, and obtain secretly 
whatever they could of his principles and 
opinions, and secretly to transmit the same 
to Rome — the Reformer thus speaks of 
his principles, and particularly of his at- 
tachment to the ** law of Christ," " the 
sacred Scriptures ; " 

*'*' In the first place, I protest publicly, 
that I resolve with my whole heart, and 
by the grace of God, to be a sincere 
Christian ; and while life shall last, to pro- 
fess and defend the Law of Christ, as far 
as I have power. If through ignorance, 
or from any other cause, I shall fail in this 
determination, I ask forgiveness of God, 
and retracting the error, submit with hu- 
mility to the correction of the church. 

In my conclusions, I have followed the 
sacred Scriptures and the holy doctors, 
both in their meaning and in their modes 
of expression ; this I am willing to shew: 
but should it be proved that such conclu- 
sions are opposed to the faith, I am pre- 
pared very willingly to retract them." 

Such confessions are not unfrequent in 
the Reformer's writings. It is thus he 
concludes a passage in which he denies 
the necessity of priestly absolution : " If 
any man would show more plainly this 
sentence, by the Law of God, I would 
meekly assent thereto. And if any man 
prove this to be false, or against the Law 
of God, that I have now said herein, I 
would meekly revoke it."* 

In another part of his statement of his 
principles, he says ; " God forbid, that 
truth should be condemned by the church 
of Christ because it sounds unpleasantly 
in the ear of the guilty or the ignorant ; 
for then the entire faith of the Scriptures 
will be exposed to condemnation." 

In one of his treatises, Wickliffe gives 

the following as the signs of freedom from 

the guilt of mortal s»in : " When a man 

will gladly and willingly hear the Word 

3 VaughoHf vol. 1., p. 862, note 7. 



290 



John WickVff^s Life and Opmon^ 



[JULTy 



of God; when he knowetb himself pre- 
pared to do good works ; when he is pre- 
pared to flee sin ; when a man can be 
sorry for his sins." * 

In this same statement of his Tiews, 
Wickliffe says in reference to " the power 
of the keys " : ** We ought to believe, 
that then only does a christian priest 
bind or loose, when he amply obeys the 
Law of Christ ; because it is not lawful 
for him to bind or loose, but in virtue of 
that law; and by consequence, not unless 
it be in conformity to it*" 

These extracts show, in connection with 
others hereafter to be given, most con- 
clusively, that the great Reformer regard- 
ed the Scriptures of the Old and New 
Testaments, not only as God*8 Word, but 
as literally an all-sufficient guide in mat- 
ters of ecclesiastical order and practice, as 
well as of religious faith and duty ; and 
that he considered nothing absolutely 
binding on his conscience, except what 
the Scriptures commanded, or at least 
authorized or justified. 

In the maintenance of this great princi- 
ple, Wickliffe out-went not only bis own 
age, but the great majority of^ churchmen 
of subsequent ages, even to the present 
day. It was, however, for this great prin- 
ciple that the Paulicians of the tenth cen- 
tury and subsequently, labored, and suffer- 
ed, and died ; as have other good men, in 
all ages of the church since apostolic 
times. . It is, too, the fundamental princi- 
ple which the Independents and Congre- 
gationalists of England and America for 
centuries past have professed, and in be- 
half of which they have argued, and la- 
bored, and suffered ; and which they hope 
yet to see, under the smile of Him by 
whose inspiration all Scripture was ori- 
ginally piven, pervade and blesa the 
whole christian worid. 

2. A second principle of Conjjregation- 
alism recognized by Wickliffe, and abun- 
dantly developed in his voluminous wri- 
tings, is the necessity of piety to true 
church-membership. 
^ Vaughan, toI. 1., p. 872, note. » lb. f. 1., p. 876. • TracU, &c., p. 32. * /6. 41. \Jb. p. 46. 



He defines the church to be '^ a con- 
gregation of just men for whom Christ 
shed his blood ** — ^* an assembly of predes- 
tinated persons" — "Christ's members, 
that he hath ordained to bliss ;" and he 
calls them "true men" — "just men" — 
" religious men " — " devout men ;" and 
says, " no man can possibly know himself 
to be a member of the church of Christ 
except as he is enabled to live a holy life." 

Take the following extracts from his 
writings as a sample of his teachings on 
this head. In a work entitled The Great 
Sentence of the Curse Expounded^ he 
thus defines a christian church : " Chris- 
tian men, taught in God's law, call holy 
church, the congregation of just men, for 
whom Jesus Christ shed his blood ; and 
they do not so call stones, and timber, and 
earthly rubbish, which antichrist's clerks 
magnify more than God's righteousness, 
and the souls of Christian men." ' And 
in another place he says, the cjiurch con- 
sists not of the clergj-, " but of all men 
and women who shall be saved." * 

He derides the folly of regarding the 
church as the spouse of Christ, and sup- 
posing that the offspring of Belial can be 
among its members. " In the present 
world, no man can possibly know himself 
to be a member of the church of Christ ex- 
cept as he is enabled to live a holy life ; few, 
if any, being so taught of God as to know 
their ordination to the bliss of heaven." 

In another work entitled De Episco- 
porum Erroribus, Wickliffe says : " >Vhen 
men speak of holy church, they under- 
stand anon prelates and priests, monks 
and canons and friars, and all men who 
have crowns [tonsures — referring to the 
manner of wearing the hair peculiar to 
ecclesiastical persons] though they live 
never so cursedly against God's law ; and 
they call not secular men, of holy church, 
though they live never so truly after 
God's law, and in perfect charity. Nev- 
ertheless, all who shall be saved in bliss 
of heaven are members of holy church, 
and no more." ^ 



1859.] 



John WickUf^a Life and Opimora. 



291 



In the mainteiiance of this doctrine, the 
Reformer of the fourteenth century was 
but the forerunner of those great and 
good men who,. in subsequent centuries, 
separated themselves from the impure 
fellowship of the church of England, 
banished themselves to a foreign land, and 
finally buried themselves in a distant 
wilderness, that they might, unmolested, 
erect a tabernacle for God's service 
according to the pattern furnished to 
them in the sacred revelations of His holy 
mind and will. 

3. Another ecclesiastical topic on which 
Wickliffe symbolized somewhat with Con- 
gregationalists, relates to the christian 
ministry. 

The hierarchy and its officials he re- 
jected entirely — popes, cardinals, patri- 
archs, archbishops, bishops, archdeacons, 
officials, deans, etc., etc. His idea of a 
christian minister was, that he should be 
nmply a preacher of the gospel. And 
there were few things against which he 
protested more vehemently, than the 
lordly power and worldly character of the 
higher orders of the hierarchy. In fact, 
the only preeminence which he willingly 
recognized in the ministry of the church 
was, that of eminent holiness and devo- 
tion to the cause of Christ In conform- 
ity with this general view of the nature 
and work of the christian ministry, Wick- 
lifife sent forth, without license or leave 
from pope or prelate, his " poor priests," 
as they were called, to preach the gospel 
in the market places, in the fields, the 
highways, or wherever they could find 
hearers; thus conforming, as nearly as 
might be, to the primitive exan^ple of 
Christ and his apostles. 

In his work De EcclesicR Dominioj 
Wickliffe, after describing the earnest and 
successful labors of the apostles among 
Jews and Gentiles, continues : ^* And thus 
the apostles of Christ filled the world with 
God*s grace. But long after, as chroniclers 
say, the fiend had envy thereat, and by 
Silvester, priest of Rome, he brought in a 
new guile, and xnoved the Emperor of 



Rome to endow the church. When' the 
life of the priest was thus changed, his 
name was changed. He was not called 
the apostle, or the disciple of Christ, but 
he was called the pope, and head of all 
holy 6hurch : and afterwards came other 
names, by the feigning of hypocrites, so 
that some say he is even with the man- 
head of Christ, and highest vicar of Christ, 
to do on earth whatever he liketh ; and 
some flourish other names, and say that he 
is most blessed father — because hereof 
Cometh benefices which the priest giveth 
to men; for Simon Magus never more 
labored in simony than do these priests." ^ 

Though in theory he admits of two 
orders in the ministry — presbyters and 
deacons, utterly repudiating the third, or 
episcopal order — yet in point of fact, he 
seems to recognize but one order. A 
priest, he maintains, is as competent to 
the ministry of every sacrament as a 
bishop ; for ** the power of priesthood 
is a matter which may not exist, in a 
degree, either more or less." And the 
distinction between what were termed the 
superior and the inferior clergy, he insists 
is simply a difierence of jurisdiction, and 
not a difference of character." And 
though he admits of a distinction of order 
between bishops and deacons, he yet 
speaks of deacons, and the reason for their 
appointment in the apostolic churches, 
very much as every Congregationalist 
would. 

4. Wickli fife's views respecting the 
ordery government^ and worship of the 
churchy harmonize in several other par- 
ticulars with those of Congregationalists. 

For example : he maintained that Christ 
is the only head of the church — the 
pope of Rome being Antichrist; that 
christian men should practice and teach 
only the laws of Christ — the laws of Anti- 
christ being contrary in every respect to the 
laws and the office of Christ ; that all human 
traditions are superfluous and sinful, and 
that mystical and significant ceremonies 

1 Tracts^ &o., p. 76. 

s S«e FoMf AoA, ToL i., p. 878. 



292 



John WickUffis Life and Opirdona. 



[July, 



in religious worship are unlawful ; epis- 
copal confirmation be rejected ; set forms 
of prayer be disapproved of; and even 
the imposition of bands in ordination, it is 
said, be disallowed. He did not believe 
that any other license to preach the gos- 
pel was necessary than a conformity of 
life and character to Christ's example, 
and an inward call to the work ; and it 
was charged, that he even went so far in 
his notions of christian freedom, as to 
admit that women might lawfully preach. 
To all the clergy he allowed the privilege 
of marriage ; the right to preach wherever 
they pleased (as his poor priests did), and 
the power to ordain others to the same 
work. He gave to the body of the church 
the right to call to account their clergy, 
and even the pope himself, for unchristian 
deportment. In short, taking the New 
Testament for his unerring and all-suffi- 
cient guide in all matters of church 
interest, Wickliffe regarded as erroneous, 
or entirely non-essential, whatever in the 
order, government, and worship of the 
church bad not scriptural warrant ; and 
in regard to all such matters, allowed the 
largest liberty which cither the teaching 
or example of Christ and his apostles 
would justify. 

Wickliife seems to have taken very 
nearly the same view of excommunication, 
as a church censure, which Conjjrefration- 
aliits do. He held that no prelate ought 
to excommunicate any man except he 
knew him first to be excommunicated of 
God. While modern Congregationalists 
hold that no man should be cast out from 
the church, as " a heathen man and publi- 
can," who has not first forfeited his stand- 
ing as a christian man. 

In regard to the maintenance of the 
clergy, Wickliffe agreed with modern 
Congregationalists, that it should be by 
the voluntary contributions of the faithful. 
He insisted that the clergy should receive 
but a very moderate support from their 
parishioners, saying : ** Priests owen 
[ought] to hold them [selves] paid with 
food and hiling [clothing] as St. Paul 



teachete." ^ And even this moderate sti- 
pend, he argued, should be continued only 
80 long as the priests were faithful to their 
ministerial duties. And what he taught 
in these respects, he practiced. He lived 
in a very humble style among hid parish- 
ioners; wearing, for the most part, a 
coarse woollen gown, and travelling about 
his parish staff in hand and barefooted. ' 

In rei^ard to human traditions and di- 
vers relicrious rites and ceremonies intro- 
duced by the hierarchy, and on the right 
of private judgment, Wickliffe's language 
is quite explicit : 

In commenting, in one of his sermons, 
on the words of the Apostle, 1 Cor. iv : 
1-3, ''To me it is for the least thing that 
I be judged of you, or else of man*s judg- 
ment, but I judge not myself," the preach- 
er adds : " Paul chargeth not the judg- 
ment of men, whether priests or lords ; 
but the truth of Holy Writ, which is the 
will of the first judge, was enough for 
him until doomsday. And thus stewards 
of the church should not judge wickedly 
by their own will, but merely after Grod's 
law, in things of which they are certain. 
But the laws and judgments which Anti- 
christ hath brought in, putting God's law 
behind, mar too much the church of 
Christ. For to the stewards of the church, 

^ Why Pom Priests have no Bene/iees, rhap 2. 

9 Wickliffe was the con tern porarj and pctrsonal 
friend of the father of English Poetry, Geoffrey Chan- 
cer. The prvet is said to have been a Wicklifflte, and 
to have suffered for his principles, llippisley, In his 
Chapters on Early English Literature, has collected 
sundry particulars respecting this friendship between 
the Poet and the Reformer. Chaucer^s Court of Lovt 
wa<* dedicated to Anne, the first queen of Richard II. ; 
and the poet was one to whom the protection of the 
king was, extended.— In the Vision of Wtiliam^iht 
characteristics of a Lollard parson are described un- 
der the allegorical character of Dobet — do better : 

" lie is lowe as a lanibe, and lovelich of speech, 
And helpeth all men after that hem ncdith." 

" From a subsequent expression — ' and hath ren- 
drid (translated) the Bible '—one would be inclined 
to suppose Wickliffe himself here intended.''—'' It 
has been imagined that the poet, under the character 
of a LolIer(for so he is called by the Host in the 
Shipman^s Prologue)^ has portrayed his contempora- 
ry, and political associate, WickMe, as Rector of 
Lutterworth." 



1859.] 



John WickUff^i Life and Opimona. 



2^3 



the laws of Antichrist are rules to make 
officers therein, and to condemn the laity."* 

In other places he speaks on this wise : 
" In the sacrament of baptism, in that of 
confirmation, and in the rest, hath Anti- 
christ invented unauthorized ceremonies; 
and to the burden of the church, without 
warrant from Scripture, hath heaped them 
on subjected believers." * 

And a^^ain : " We ought to know that 
Christ will not fail in any ordinance or law 
sufficient for his church ; and whosoever 
reverses this sentence blasphemes against 
Christ." » 

Of the episcopal rite of confirmation, 
WicklifTe thus expresses himself: **This 
sacrament does not appear to me necessa- 
ry to the believer's salvation, nor do I 
believe that those who pretend to confirm 
youths, do rightly confirm them, nor that 
this sacrament should be restricted exclu- 
sively to the Caesarean bishops. Further, 
I think it would be more devout, and more 
in accordance with Scripture language, to 
say that our bishops do not confer the 
Holy Ghost, or confirm the previous be- 
stowment of the Holy Ghost, for such 
expressions, however glossed by our doc- 
tors, are still liable, if once admitted, to 
misconstruction, while, at the same time, 
they want authority to sanction them." 
Hence some are of opinion that this slight 
and brief confirmation, performed by the 
bishop, with the rites which are attached 
to it, with so much solemnity, was intro- 
duced at the suggestion of the devil, with 
a view to delude the people concerning 
the faith of the church, and to give more 
credence to the solemnity, or as to the 
necessity of bishops. For according to 
the common opinion, while our bishops 
administer this sacrament of confirmation, 
retaining it in common with many other 
things exclusively in their own hands ; 
and while there is no salvation for be- 
lievers apart from the reception of these 
solemn sacraments, how could the church 

1 Tracts, &c., p. 82, 83. 

s Trialogus^ bk. ir., 18, in Tracts, &c., p. 188. 

s Tracts^ &c., p. 78, note. 



preserve her station uninjured without 
such bishop ? But one thing appears to 
hold, in the greater part, that for any 
bishop whatever, baptizing in such a way, 
to bestow the Holy Spirit, according to 
God's covenant, implies a blasphemy. 
But I leave to others the more subtle dis- 
cussion of this topic." * 

On the right and duty of men to preach 
without episcopal license, the Reformer 
holds the following plain and bold lan- 
guage : " Worldly prelates command that 
no man should preach the gospel, but ac- 
cording to their will and limitation, and 
forbid men to hear the gospel on pain of 
the great curse. But Satan, in his own 
person, durst never do so much despite to 
Christ and his gospel, for he alleged holy 
writ in tempting Christ, and thereby 
would have pursued his intent" 

One of the earliest series of articles 
gathered from Wickliffe's sermons, and 
condemned by the pope and cardinals as 
erroneous or heretical, was made about 
A. D. 1377, and was as follows :— " That 
the Holy Eucharist, afler consecration, is 
not the very body of Christ, but figura- 
tively. — That the Church of Rome is not 
head of all churches, more than any other 
church is : Nor that Peter hath any more 
power given of Christ, than any other 
apostle hath. — That the Pope of Rome 
hath no more in the keys of the Church, 
than hath any other within the order of 
priesthood. — If God be, the lords tempo- 
ral may lawfully and meretoriously take 
away their temporalities from the church- 
men offending habitualiter. — If any tem- 
poral lord do know the church so offend- 
ing, he is bound, under pain of damnation, 
to take the temporalities from the same. — 
That all the Gospel is a rule sufiicient of 
itself to rule the life of every christian 
man here, without any other rule. — That 
all other rules, under whose observances 
divers religious persons be governed, do 
add no more perfection to the Gospel, than 
doth the white color to the wall. — That 
neither the pope, nor any other prelate 
1 Tnuu and IVcof ism , p. 168. 



294 



John WkkUff^B Life and Opmons. 



[July, 



of the church, ought to have prisons 
wherein to punish transgressors." * 

The following " conclusions " were ex- 
hibited, among others, in the convocation 
of the clergy at Lambeth, 1378-9, as 
among WickliSe*s errors : 

** A man cannot be excommunicated to 
his hurt or undoing, except he be first and 
principally excommunicate of himself. 

** No man ought, but in God*s cause 
alone, to excommunicate, suspend, or for- 
bid, or otherwise to proceed to revenge 
by any ecclesiastical censure. 

'^ An ecclesiastical minister, and also 
the bishop of Rome, may lawfully be 
rebuked of his subjects, and for the profit 
of the church be accused, either of the 
clergy or of the laity." ' 

The veriest Independent could scarcely 
exceed this. 

Harpsfield, a bitter Romanist of the six- 
teenth century, (Hist of Wickliffe, p. 674) 
thus describes the Reformer's views of a 
liturgy : ** He affirms the tying of people 
to set forms of prayer, is abridging the 
liberty which God has given us." * 

His views of ordination, and of the right 
of good men to preach the Gospel without 
prelatical license, are thus described by 
Collier : " He disallows imposition of 
hands in ordination, and all other signs 
and ceremonies of an outward call ; and 
maintains that, when the antichristian and 
insignificant prelates fail to do their duty, 
our Saviour will give a mission himself, 
and determine the circumstances of per- 
son, time, and manner, as He shall think 
fit ; for but let a man imitate the example 
of our Saviour, and he need not question 
his being ordained by Him, though he 
never received his character from State 
prelate." * 

Wickliffe was even accused of giving 
women the privilege of the priesthood and 

1 Fox^s Acts and Monttmenta, ▼ol. i., p. 491 : Lend. 
1684. By a canon of the lynod of Labeth, A. D. 
1216, the English bishops were required to hare 
prisons,— Hip nry 'a En^tand^ Tol. viii., p. 4. 

» Fux, Tol. ! , p. 693. 

s CoUitrU Ecc. Hist. Great Bntaifif toL ill., p. 
183. Lond.« 8ro. 1862. 



the pulpit. And to every priest he grant> 
ed the liberty of marriage, of preaching 
where he pleased, and of ordaining others 
to their own order.* 

Though I have not been able to discover 
in Wickliffe's own writings anything to 
justify the assertion, that he gave to women 
" the privilege of the priesthood and the 
pulpit;" yet, in the writings of Walter 
Brute, a learned layman who embraced 
Wickliffe's views, and wrote very ably 
against Romish errors, it b argued that, 
** in defect of the clergy" women may ex- 
ercise the action of prayer and adminis- 
tration of sacraments belonging to priests; 
and referring to the custom received in 
the popish church for women to baptize, 
which, saith he, cannot be without the 
remission of sins, he asks : *^ Wherefore, 
seeing that women have power by the 
pope to remit sin, and to baptize, why 
may not they as well be admitted to min- 
ister the Lord's Supper, in like case of 
necessity f" • 

It is apparent hence, that the Wick- 
liffites gave to women the privileges of 
the priesthood and the pulpit, only ** in 
defect of the clergy;" only "in case of 
necessity ;" and so it is presumed would 
any intelligent Congregation alist. 

The exposition which has now been 
given of the ecclesiastical tenets of the 
Great Reformer of the fourteenth cen- 
tury, must satisfy every reader that, 
whether right or wrong in his views, John 
Wickliffe much less resembled a Roman- 
ist, or Prelatist, ancient or modern, than a 
Congregationalist of the apostolic model. 

WicklifFe exerted a mighty and exten- 
sive influence in preparing the way for 
the Great Reformation, which took place 
in England some ages after he had been 
gathered to his fathers. His writings, 
many of which were small tracts, were 
exceedingly voluminous, and were scat- 

6 CoUifT's Ecc. HLst. Hi., 180-89. 

« See " \Valt*rr Brute's Declaration Concerning the 
Priesthood," etc., In Fox, bk. t., A. D. 1391, toI. i., 
p. 666. AL<o, the lettt-r to Nicholas liereford, '' by a 
Lollard " (probably Walter Brute), in Fox^ toI. 1., 
p. 671. 



1859.] 



John WichKffia Life and Opimoni. 



295 



tered by handreds all over the kingdom. 
These breathed into the nation a spirit as 
adverse to j>oper}'as it was favorable to 
genuine protestantism.^ 

It cannot be questioned, that had Wick- 
liffe been permitted to reform the English 
church as he wished, he would have laid 
the axe at the root of the tree. Milner's 
estimate of the Reformer's notions of 
** external reformation," seem clearly 
to intimate his belief of this. He tells 
us, that Wickliffe would have "erred 
in the extreme of excess," had he been 
permitted to carry out his notions of 
church reform. Le Bas evidently rejoices 
with trembling, to think what the church 
of England escaped by not having been 
reformed by Wickliffe. lie says : " Had 
he succeeded in shaking the established 
system to pieces, one can scarcely think, 
without some awful misgivings, of the 
fabric which, under his hand, might have 
risen out of the ruins." And the ground 
of these awful misgivings of the good 
churchman are very clearly exhibited, 
when he savs : " If the reformation of our 
church had been conducted by Wickliffe, 
his work, in all probability, would nearly 
have anticipated the labors of Calvin ; 
and the Protestantism of England might 
have pretty closely resembled the Pro- 
testantism of Geneva." And when he 
adds, that as one fruit of this reformation 
— " Episcopal government might have 
been discarded," one who has contem- 
plated the manifold evils of that " Episco- 
pal government " which the Reformation 
entailed upon England, can hardly re- 
frain from exclaiming — O that Wickliffe 
had succeeded in his scriptural labors ! 
And when the professor speaks of another 
of the evils which might have resulted 
from the execution of Wiekliffe's plan of 

1 Fox tellfl UK that do less than two hundred ▼ol> 
umefl of Wiekliffe's writings were burned at one time, 
in 1410, by order of the Church of Rome. And yet, 
notwithstanding the diligence of the Roman inquisi- 
tors, there have trome down to our day in manuscript, 
no less than three hundred of Wictcliffe's sermons ; 
and the whole number of volumei of manuscripts of 
h\A composition , preaerred in the Ubrariea of England 
and elM where, li very Urge. 



reformation — " the clergy might have 
been consigned to a degrading [!] depend- 
ence on their flocks " — no good Congre- 
gationalist can sympathize at all, with his 
" awful misgivings." Least of all, could 
any of the thousands, who for centuries 
groaned under the oppressive burden of 
the English national church establish- 
ment 

Le Bas further says : " Had Wickliffe 
flourished in the sixteenth century, it can 
hardly be imagined that he would have 
been found under the banners of Cran- 
mer and of Ridley. Their caution, their 
patience, their moderation, would scarcely 
have been intelligible to him ; and rather 
than conform to it, he might, perhaps, 
have been ready, if needful, to perish, in 
the gainsaying [!] of such men as Knox 
or Cartwright. At all events, it must plainly 
be confessed, that there is a marvellous 
resemblance between the Reformer and 
his poor itinerant priests, and at least the 
better part of the Puritans, who troubled 
our Israel in the days of Elizabeth and 
her successor. The likeness is sufficiently 
striking, almost to mark him out as their 
prototype and progenitor ; and therefore 
it is, that every faithful son of the church 
of England* must rejoice with trembling, 
that the work of her final deliverance was 
not consigned to him." " 

The men who are thus sneered at as 
gainsay ersy by an English churchman of 
the nineteenth century, are the very men 
whom an infidel historian is constrained 
to honor, as the preservers of the precious 
spark of English liberty ! Yes, and of 
English protestantism too. 

Such was John Wickliffe — in charac- 
ter and in principle — a great man and a 
good man ; a reformer of the purest inten- 
tions and of the soundest general prin- 
ciples. The Bible was the lamp by which 
he sought truth. The Bible was the rod 
by which he measured everything per- 
taining to the church. This was the 
standard to which he would have reduced 
the outward form and order, and indeed 

s L§ B/W Li/i of Wielif, p. 825. 



296 



American Ecclmasticdl Dewmmatums. 



[JULT, 



the entire polity of the church. Had he 
succeeded in his reformatory labors, the 
church of England would have been 
saved from the taunt of one of her most 
eloquent statesmen — of having " an Ar- 
minian clergy and a Popish liturgy." 



But the time had not then come for the 
English nation to receive so great a de* 
liverance. Neither indeed has it yet fully 
come. But the day of her redemption is 
gradually advancing, and the time of 
deliverance will yet come. 



AMERICAN ECCLESIASTICAL DENOMINATIONS. 



COMPILED BT BEV. ALONZO H. QUINT. 



The General Conferences of the Me- 



Year. 



Annual Conf. Members. 



THODI8T Protestant Church meet- 


1834 




14 


26,587 


ing but once in four years, no Minutes 


1838 
1842 
1846 




16 
21 
26 


27,948 
63,875 
63,567 
64,219 


have been issued since those of the session 




of 1854. The first General Conference 


1850 




32 


was held in 1834 ; those 


subsequent, 


in 


1854 




34* 


70,018 


the years noted : 




* Including one Mission Conference. 


In the Minutes of 1854, 


we find the following table : 










1 


Itinerant 


Unsta'd 




Houses 


Par- 


Est'd Taiue 


Annoal Conference ! Sta- 


Circ. 


Mis- 


Min. and 


Min. and 


Members. 


of Wor- 


son- 


of Chureh 


Dbtricta. 


tion9. 




sions. 


Preach 


Preach. 




ship. 


ages. 


property. 


Maine, . . . . . 


6 




10 


4 


500 


1 


1 


1,800 


Boston 


i 13 




__ 


11 


3 


426 


13 


— 


22,100 


New York & Vermont 


, 8 


17 


5 


28 


33 


1,609 


37 


6 


70,000 


Onondaga, .... 


1 


19 


3 


44 


27 


1,308 


8^ 


6 


11,100 


Genesee, .... 


1 


14 


1 


18 


13 


925 


9 


3 


12,100 


New Jersey, . . . 


1 1 


7 


2 


11 


16 


702 


10 


— 


8,000 


Pennsylvania, . . . 




7 


1 


8 


14 


555 


5 


— 


4,100 


Pittsburg, .... 


8 


30 


8 


69 


68 


6,066 


66 


6 


121,725 


Muskingum, . . . 


6 


29 


^ 7 


5Q 


66 


6,100 


126 


9 


70,855 


Ohio 


5 


26 


9 


60 


70 


5,689 


91 


12 


101.250 


Michigan, .... 


1 


19 


7 


47 


28 


1.469 


6 


— 


4.800 


Indiana, .... 


1 


11 


6 


22 


24 


2,031 


25 




13,000 


Waba«>h, .... 




8 


3 


20 


17 


1,014 


10 


2 


4,925 


Illinois, 


— 


14 


3 


17 


26 


1,264 


17 


4 


14,500 


North Illinois, . . 


2 


23 


— 


43 


33 


1,549 


12 


15 


12,550 


South Illinois, . . 


— 


12 




15 


20 


1,264 


10 


4 


3,670 


Iowa 




8 


3 


19 


10 


800 


1 


— 


2,000 


Maryland, .... 


14 


28 


4 


66 


74 


6,746 


165 


46 


348,000 


Virginia, .... 


3 


12 


8 


37 


25 


4,729 


51 


1 


44,750 


North Carolina, . . 


1 


12 


3 


41 


21 


5,397 


66 


— 


22,080 


South Carolina, . . 


— 


6 


— 


9 


6 


733 


10 


— 


30,000 


Tennessee, .... 


1 


6 


3 


17 


11 


1,800 


12 




10,000 


^Vest Tennessee, . . 




4 


4 


20 


10 


908 


24 


— 


3,500 


Georgia, .... 


3 


18 


2 


55 


12 


3,162 


25 


1 


6,000 


Florida, . . 




3 


^^ 


3 


12 


1 


800 


11 




5,400 


Alabama, . 




5 


17 


2 


39 


50 


4,375 


91 


2 


44,500 


IIunts^'ille, 
Mississippi, 






6 
10 


1 
3 


9 
33 


13 
21 


1,000 
2,421 










1 


38 




5,570 


Missouri, 
Piatt, . . 






7 
7 


2 
6 


18 
15 


6 
12 


1,800 
650 












1 


^^ 


1,000 


Arkansas, . , 






10 




15 


11 


880 


10 




3,000 


Louisiana, . . 




— 


6 


1 


13 


7 


676 


20 




10,000 


ToiroQ 






8 


4 


22 

7 


5 


550 
120 








xexas, . • • . . 

Oregon Miss. Conf. . 


78 


1 


— 


1,000 


Total, 


405 


103 


916 


767 


70,018 


982% 


118 


1,009,275 



1859.] 



American Eeclma^icai DenomnocHona. 



297 



The statistics of the Uni verbalists 
we obtain from the Universalist Compan- 
ion^ with an Almanac and Register. The 
orgaDization of the denomination is by 
" State Conventions" in the several States, 
and a " United States Convention," in 
which each State or Territorial Conven- 
tion is represented by one clerical and 
two lay delegates, and if consisting of fifly 
societies and clergymen, two clerical and 
four lay delegates, — with one clerical and 
two lay delegates for every additional fifty. 
Local Associations, equivalent to our Con- 
ferences, meet in the several States. 

Ano- Soeie- Meeting 
ciAHoDB. ties. Houmi. Preachen. 



Maine, 7 

N. H. 6 

Vt. 6 

Mem. 6 

xC. I. • • 

Conn. 3 

N. Y. 16 

Penn. 4 

Ohio, 12 

Mich. 8 

Ind. 7 

IlL 7 

Wise. 2 

Minn.* 

Iowa, 3 

Mo.« 

Ky. 3 

Tenn.« 

Md.» 

Va.» 

M. C. • • 

Geo. 

Ala. 

La.* 

Miss.* 

Flor.« 

Texas,* 

Calif.* 1 

Nebr.* 

Oreg.* 

Brit. Prov. 1 



136 

73 

82 

164 

10 

26 

220 

46 

139 

16 

53 

64 

15 

1 

20 

4 

16 

2 

4 

6 

2 

1 

6 

4 



116 

60 

91 

152 

5 

20 

194 

33 

82 

8 

28 

23 

5 

1 

4 

2 

12 

2 

5 

5 



49 

24 

40 

122 

3 

15 

107 

24 

47 

19 

12 

64 

21 

3 

28 

9 

17 

2 

1 

1 



Total, 



84 



15 
1128 



33("free") 4 

1 1 
12 9 
•5 5 

2 

2 5 
1 

2 5 

4 
1 
1 

8 7 



912 



652 



* These hare no State Conrentions. 

The statistics of the Unitarians, as a 
denomination, have been found, for the 
past seven or eight years, in the Unita- 
rian Year Book ; but that publication be- 

VO^ I. 88 



ing suspended, those of the current year 
are inserted in the January number of the 
Quarterly Journal of the American Unita- 
rian Association. They comprise a list of 
clergymen, with post-office address, and 
(in part) occupation ; and a list of socie- 
ties, with their clergj'men ; and they are 
admirably calculated to afibrd arithmeti- 
cal practice to anybody who desires a 
summary. Arranging the societies by 
States, we arrive at the following results : 

SOCIETIES. 



Maine, 

N. H. 

Vt. 

Mass. 

R. I. 

Conn. 

N. Y. 

N.J. 

Penn. 

Maryland, 

D. C. 

Ohio. 

111. 

Mich. 

Iowa, 

Wise. 

Kansas, 

Misso. 

Ky. 

S. C. 

Geo. 

La. 

CaUf. 

Canada, 



With pastors. 
12 
14 
2 
121 
3 



1 
10 
1 
1 
2 
1 
2 
5 
2 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 



Vacant. 
3 
2 
I 
38 

2 
3 
1 
2 


2 
4 


1 











TotXl. 
15 
16 

3 
159 

3 

3 
13 

2 

3 

2 

1 

4 

9 

2 

1 

2 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

I 

1 



Total. 187 59 246 

Of the members of churches, (where 
such organizations are recognized,) as of 
the attendance of public worship, no sta- 
tistics are in existence. 

The list of clergymen includes 297 
names. Of these, 195 are pastors, (eight 
churches having a double pastorate), 88 
are "without charge"; and 14 others are 
connected with colleges and seminaries, 
or are ministers " at large," and the like. 
Of the 88 " without charge," the residences 
are as follows: Massachusetts, 70: N. H- 
3 ; N. Y., 3 ; R. I., 2 ; and Vt, Ohio, III., 
Wise., Pa., Md., Ky., Ga., Kansas, and 
unknown, 1 each. 



298 



Ajlimean EecUmBtiedl benom&Mtioia. 



[itoEt, 



a th< Unltml Statei, 



DIOCESES. 


1^ 


1 


ll 


3-- 


11 




1 
1' 


k 
fi 


t 
i 




98 
20 
33 
163 
74 
17 
10 


127 
10 
19 
142 
79 
13 
13 
9 
3 


3 
3 

*2 


2 

'2 

2 

4 


10 

'2 

2 

'a 
2 


7 
2 

'3 
3 

:: 


9 
2 

"s 

S 
3 

"i 


u 
a 

's 

e 

3 

3 






10,000 
19.000 








u,ooa 

iffl 

10,000 








Vicarinte of Florida 


9 


427 


420 


6 


10 


31 


1£ 


21 


34 






123 

79 

66 
29 
08 
1% 
78 


112 
67 
20 
43 

70 
16 
42 


1 
'2 


1 
9 

"2 

4 
2 


s 

4 

"3 
3 

2 
a 


3 

I 

2 

1 
1 
2 


3 
3 
6 

3 
10 

16 


7 
3 

4 
4 

"2 


m,(M 






30.000 


















» 


479 


3RS 


4 


IS 


23 


10 


it 


31 






73 

IS 
12 
14 
10 


02 
10 

27 

14 

IS 


1 


2 

"i 

1 


4 
2 
3 

1 
3 
* 


1 

1 
6 


3 

3 
3 

3 


11 

■3 

4 


















10,000 








6 


173 


201 


1 


9 


17 


10 


10 


18 






78 

iia 

8,5 
31 
102 

62 
40 
36 


124 
84 
78 
31 

106 
13 
42 
41 
25 


1 
"2 


3 

2 
9 

i 

1 


3 

2 
6 
17 

'2 
I 


2 
'2 


12 

4 
3 
9 

3 
2 

1 


6 

m 
2 

2 

2 

3 


















100,000 




H»rtford 


90,000 




40.000 




a 


S76 


644 


3 


19 


34 


10 


3fi 


18 






7 
B 


7 
16 




•; 


'i 


■; 


'i 


'i 












2 


13 


22 




1 


1 


1 


1 


1 






04 
73 
02 
1S9 
14 

31 
15 


120 
40 
66 
24 

12 
26 
27 
10 


3 


3 

1 

2 


1 

1 
1 

6 


17 

'i 
3 


12 

1 
2 

6 

'? 

1 
4 


26 
'3 
6 

4 


120,000 

66,000 












160,000 

10,000 
83,000 
30.000 








Vicariate of Kbhiii., Ac... 


e 


899 


403 


6 17 


10 1 a5 


40 


39 






43 
24 


61 
19 


1 


3 


5 


2 
2 


2 


'\ 






28.000 




2 


67 


70 


2 


4 


8 


4 


e 


6 




Total 


2334 


MseJ 


21 


_86j 


141 


_76_ 


170 


1S8 





185Q.] 



American Ec^lemsUcal ^enomnatioM. 



299 



The Genebal Convention of the 
New Church in the United States does 
not appear to comprise all the receivers 
of the ** doctrines of the New Jerusalem." 
It is composed of six Associations, (bound- 
ed mainly by State lines,) one ** General 
Society," and five societies not belonging 
to any Association; these embrace 39 
societies, of which, all except Ohio (12 
societies) and the 5 isolated societies, 
report 1,812 members, a number bearing 
but a very slight proportion to the whole. 
Other tables in the " Journal of the For- 
tieth Annual Session," furnish a list of the 
places where societies exist, and also of 
towns where are " receivers " of the doc- 
trines, without societies : These we reckon 
up as follows : 







Other PUees 






where are 


Statei. 


Societies. 


" nodTeis." 


Maine, 


4 


76 


New Hampshire, 


1 


11 


Vermont, 





3 


Massachusetts, 


15 


58 


Bhode Island, 


1 


5 


Connecticut, 





9 


New York, 


4 


20 


New J ersey, 





8 


Pennsylvania, 


8 


10 


Delaware, 





1 


Maryland, 





11 


District of Columbia, 1 





Virginia, 


1 


10 


South Carolina, 


1 


1 


Georgia, 





8 


Alabama, 





3 


Florida, 





1 


Mississippi, 





? 


Louisiana, 





7 


Tennessee, 





2 


Kentucky, 





7 


Ohio, 


9 


43 


Indiana, 


1 


24 


Illinois, 


4 


65 


Michigan, 


(error) 


44 


Wisconsin, 





23 


Iowa, 





12 


Minnesota, 





3 


Missouri, 





5 


Kansas, 





1 


Nebraska, 





1 


Arkansas, 





1 


Texas, 





1 


California, 





3 


Total in U. S., 


60 


478 



In addition to the above, we find the 
following : 

Ooontries. Societies. Other Places, frc. 

Canada West, 19 

New Brunswick, 1 

West Indies, 5 

Making a total, in America, of 50 Socie- 
ties and 503 other places where there are 
" receivers." Of course any estimate &om 
such data is worthless. 

As to ministers, there are in connection 
with the Convention, — 

Ordaining Ministers, 6 

Pastors and Missionaries, 25 

Licentiates ^ and Ministers, 12 

Total, 43 

1 licensed for one year at a time. 

The same document gives a list of So- 
cieties in other countries, as follows : 

England, Scotland, and Ireland,— 
Connected with Conference, 48 
Not " " " 15 



Africa, 

Australia, 

German States, 

Prussia, 

Switzerland, 

France, 

Italy, 

Total in other countries, 
America, 



63 
2 
1 
9 

10 
5 
3 
3 

96 
50 



Total, 146 

In our last number, being unable to 
give the statistics of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church South for 1858, 
we copied those for 1867. We now in- 
sert the table for the first mentioned 
year, — and with it the summary for the 
preceding year, as it appears in the re- 
cent issue, although differing in some 
figures from the table previously printed. 
** In the following table, the six Bishops 
are not counted. Their addition would 
make the number of travelling preachers, 
including those on the superannuated list, 
2,5 7 7. The preachers who are located (77) 
are not counted ; on the other hand, the 
preachers who were admitted on trial, 
(224,) and those who were re-admitted| 



SOO SJcdch of Broadway Church, Normeh, Ct. [Jult, 

(6S,) are counted among the traveUiiig reported — these would make tlie total 

preachers, though man}' of them are also number of mlniaten and members abonl 

' reckoned with the local preachers. Tbe 700,000, and the increaae about 44,000." 

members in eeveral charges in the Ken- The Pacific figures are not olEcial, though 

tucky Conference, as well as those in the gross number ofministera and members 

China, are not counted, not being officially may be correotly reported. 



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— 



SKETCH OF THE BROADWAY CHURCH, NOIIWICH, CT.. 
WITH PAKTICULAR REFEREN'CE TO VENTTIATIDN. 



The edifice ereuted for the use of ihe 
Broadnay (formerly Main St.) Congre- 
gational Socif'iy in Norwich, Cl., a front 
view oi which is on the opposite pa^e, is 
built of Irecstone and bricks, of 94 I'cct in 
lengih by 64 fret in breadth. The spire 
19 201 feet high from the main floor, en- 
tire)}' of brick. It is upon the slope of a 
steep hill, the audience-room being nearly 



a level with the si 



peculiar situation ol the chnn-h deter- 
mined the style of the front, it being ne- 
cessary to give elevation by the use of 
both a tower and a steeple. 

It is hoped that, from the followina de- 
scription, gome useful binis may be ob- 

munt of our <'hurtlies for purposes of 
comfort and convenience, and especially 



the basement, which is 15 feel bigh in the 
clear, is two feel above the surface of the 
ground in the rear, there being beneath 
all, a dry and airy cellar, seven fi^et high 
in the clear. The audience-room is de- 
signed to seat 1,000 persons; the lai^r 
lectnT»-ioom,450; tlieanuller,125. The 



I front, while upon the subject of the Ve> 



^ Chuik 



1869.] 



Stote* 0/ Broalmy Chm*, NmM, «• 



sol 




8k^ of ^roaduK^f Church, Nonok^ CX. [Jolt, 





idlnic* ro™..— /////// Hot-.lr «bU»«.' ft. Ouuid* .itpiu ."* *, Polplu. 

lit \a AudLcDcfl Rnom. 3 3, Onld-Klr fluvt leadlDi rromS^^a «llu piftQ, iwd 

L|WD wblch ch« pewii lUnd, frDoi whkcb It ^ drmwD TnlA the roonn ;htoD^ muli 
-j 4, Oold-alt Bum pualng ud unptjlng io * muuwr aUnllu to S 8. 



1859.] Slcelch 1^ Bnadway CImrch, Nmwielt, (X. 808 





304 



Sketch of Broadway Chureh^ Norwich, Ct. [ Jult, 



The Arrangement of the Base- 
ment. — The object here kept in view, 
was to secure a ready expansion and con- 
traction of the accommodations to meet the 
demands of various occasions. Accord- 
ingly, two lecture-rooms were provided, 
separated by sliding baize doors. Should 
the larger room become crowded, the 
smaller can readily be added to it by slid- 
ing the doors. The settees in the smaller 
room are made with' swivel backs, so that 
they can be turned towards either end of 
the room. The study and ladies room 
can, in like manner, be united with the 
small lecture-room. As these three rooms 
are handsomely carpeted and furnished, a 
suite of parlors is thus obtained for social 
purposes. A stair-case communicates from 
the small lecture-room to a room in the 
rear of the pulpit above. The pulpits in 
the lecture-rooms are lighted from the 
ceiling by means of a circular gas-pipe, 
punctured on the inside for small jets. 
This light is under the control of a stop- 
cock, which is within reach of the speaker. 
A library-room and infant school-room 
are provided for in connection with the 
larger lecture-room. As this room is also 
used as a Sabbath School room, the set- 
tees have been arranged with special 
reference to the accommodation of classes. 
They are, for this purpose, divided into 
sets of three each. The first has a swivel 
bactk, so that it can be turned to face the 
third, which has a stationary back. The 
second, which has al>o a stationary back, 
is divided in the center, as seen in the 
engraving. These parts are placed across 
the space between the first and third, 
thus forming a hollow square. This 
arrangement allows of numerous varia- 
tions, according to the size of the class 
and the taste of the teacher. The seats 
on each side of the pulpit can be arranged 
in squares sufficient to accommodate Bible 
classes of thirty to forty members. The 
legs of the settees are set in shallow iron 
rings fastened to the floor. Uniformity of 
position is thus secured. 

Arrangement of the Audibnoe- 



ROOM. — This can be seen at a glance by 
reference to the engraving. The floor 
has a rise of fifteen inches from the pulpit 
to the front. The pulpit consists of a 
rich balustrade of rose-wood, twenty-one 
inches high, which encircles the platform 
between the stairs. In the center is a 
light desk, the size of the Bible, which 
rises and falls by weights. Doors from 
the pulpit open into a space in the rear, 
from which a speaking tube communi- 
cates with the orchestra. A telegraphic 
apparatus is arranged below the reading 
desk, within easy reach of the speaker, 
which communicates- with the sexton's 
pew. It consists of a series of slides, 
which communicate with similar slides in 
the sexton's seat, by means of wires which 
pass under the floor. Beneath these 
slides are placed printers' cards, which 
are uncovered by drawing corresponding 
slides in the pulpit As this can easily be 
done without attracting the notice of the 
audience, much confusion is avoided. A 
magnificent organ is placed in the orches- 
tra, built by the Messrs. Hook, of Boston, 
the gift of Gov. W. A. Buckingham, an 
officer of the Church. 

Ventilation. — The apparatus con- 
sists of two entirely distinct parts, one for 
winter ventilation, the other for summer 
ventilation. 

Winter Ventilation. — The Winter ven- 
tilation is secured by means of four venti- 
ducts, marked r, r, upon the plans, sur- 
rounding the smoke flue, by the heat of 
which a steady upward current is estab- 
lished. Registers near the floors of the 
rooms open into these ventiducts. The 
smoke flue in this case is of brick and is 
circular. A much better plan is to use a 
cast iron smoke flue, which will heat the 
column of air in the chimney much more 
quickly and surely. It should terminate 
six or eight feet from the top of the chim- 
ney, when it will pour out its column of 
smoke and heated air into the column 
ascending the chimney, thus adding to the 
upward force. The chimney is thus made 
a ventiduct, but a small space being used 



1869.] Sketch tf Broadway Ckurehy Nonoiehf Ot. 



306 



for a smoke flue. Such chimneys may 
be seen in the public school houses of 
Boston and vicinity, in the school houses 
of Norwich, Ct, the Retreat for the 
Insane at Hartford, the Reform School at 
Meriden, and in many public buildings 
throughout the country. This arrange- 
ment secures an upward current when- 
ever the smoke flue is heated by the fire. 
In the summer season these ventiducts 
sometimes give a downward current or 
remain inactive, according to the state of 
the atmosphere. The registers for winter 
ventilation are placed near the floors of 
the rooms, because the hottest and light- 
est air is the unbreathed air which comes 
direct from the furnaces, while the coolest 
and heaviest air is the foul air ejected 
from the lungs. The registers for the 
ventiducts should be placed as far as pos- 
sible from the hot air registers, by which 
arrangement a constant circulation is kept 
np with the least possible loss of heat It 
will be found that a room can be heated 
with a hot air furnace much more quickly 
and economically when the cold air has an 
opportunity to escape into the ventiduct, 
than when it is confined. This plan of 
winter ventilation is very important in 
close or crowded rooms or such as are to 
be occupied for many hours in succession, 
as sleeping apartments, school rooms, &c. 
Our church edifices are usually so spa- 
cious, are occupied for so short a time, 
and unfortunately are so seldom crowded, 
that the occasions for using the winter 
ventilating registers will be comparatively 
few. As, however, chimneys can be built 
in this manner at a very slight additional 
cost, it will generally be considered worth 
the outlay to furnish these facilities. A 
remarkable example of what may be ac- 
complished by one of these ventilating 
chimneys may be seen in the arrange- 
ments for warming and ventilating the 
Retreat for the Insane at Hartford, plan- 
ned with great skill by Dr. Butler. In 
this case it was important to place the hot 
air registers out of the reach of the pa- 
tMnts. The hot air is accordingly brought 

TOL. I. 19 



in at the top of the room, and forced 
downward through an opening in the 
floor. So complete is the circulation thus 
established that the temperature of a room 
can be raised from 40 to 70 degrees in 
five minutes. More than this, the ex- 
ceedingly foul effluvia which ordinarily 
fills the apartments of the worst patients, 
and which formerly penetrated to every 
part of the building, are carried down 
into the cellar and there emptied into the 
ventilating chimney. So completely is 
this accomplished that no stench can be 
perceived in or about the apartment. A 
full description of this apparatus may be 
found in the Twenty-First Annual Report 
of that institution, made in April, 1855. 

Summer Ventilation, — The Summer ven- 
tilation is secured by a supply of fresh 
air brought through tubes passing from 
the cellar windows into the space between 
the ceiling of the basement and the floor 
of the audience-room, whence it issues 
through Numerous holes bored in the risers 
of the slips along the aisles. The foul air 
is carried ofl* through two ventilators in 
the ceiling, eight feet in diameter. From 
these, two tubes, four feet square, commu- 
nicate with the tower and steeple respec- 
tively. The one entering the tower rises 
perpendicularly twenty feet to the deck. 
The one entering the steeple rises forty- 
five feet to a point fourteen feet above the 
bell-deck. To control the action of these 
tubes, so as to secure an upwafrd current 
in all circumstances, heat is applied near 
the bottom of the perpendicular tubes. 
Large sheets of tin are suspended so as to 
guard the sides, and four gas-heaters are 
placed in the center. 

The summer ventilation is much more 
important than that of winter. In the 
hot still days of mid-summer, and in the 
close muggy weather which we often ex- 
perience in the Spring and Fall, both 
preachers and hearers sufl*er severely in 
most of our churches. The speaker who 
is forced by the unusual action of the 
lungs to breathe from six to ten times the 
ordinary amount of air, is compelled to 



SM Bhdch iif Broctdwai/ Church, Mrwich, CL {Jvly^ 

inliale immenfle quantities of carbonic 1. To supply a sufficient quantity of 

acid gas and other deleterious compounds, fresh air at the floor of the room, so dif- 

The blood cannot find oxygen enough to fused that no draft shall be perceived, 
relieve it of its load of carbon, and in thb In regard to the quantity, it is diflicult 

poisoned state is driven to the excited to give a general rule. The amount of 

brain, and to the laboring vocal oi^gans of tube room necessary to supply the waste 

the speaker. The results are serious and of air will vary with the rapidity of the 

often disastrous. Disease of the head or current If powerful means are employed 

throat is sure to follow the frequent repe- for drawing the air from the ceiling, less 

tition of such unnatural, we might almost tube room will be required than under 

say wicked, use of. the bodily organs, other circumstances. In the case of the 

The effect upon the audience is not less church we are describing, four tubes are 

marked, if it be less injurious. Drowsi- employed, each 2 1-2 feet square, beside 

ness, or at least dullness, a state of mind the large opening below the pulpit The 

and body totally incompatible with a pro- better plan is to provide air enough to 

fitable attention, is soon produced. An supply a full house in a summer's day 

experiment was recently tried in the Co- without opening the windows, taking care 

rinthian Hall in Rochester, which is most to supply facilities for cutting it off* when 

successfully ventilated, by the use of arti- not wanted. In case the basement is not 

ficial heat, during the delivery of a lecture used for lecture-rooms, a space might be 

by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. The cut off* from the top of the cellar, by a 

valves of the ventiducts were closed, and tight ceiling, into which the air could be 

in less than five minutes, fans were pro- received from windows at both ends of 

duced, and in five minutes more the whole the building, and from which it could be 

audience became either sleepy or weary, freely drawn into the audience-room, 

the attention flagged, and all the indica- This space being tightly closed in winter, 

tions of the presence of poison in the air could be filled with warm air from the 

were given. The opening of the venti- furnaces, and by this means the floor of 

ducts soon relieved the audience of their the audience-room would be kept at a 

stupidity and the experimenters of their comfortable temperature for the feet In 

doubts. Severe colds are much more some localities, where smoke and dust 

frequently contracted in such circumstan- abound, it may be found expedient to 

ces, than from exposure to a low temper^ take the air from below the eaves of the 

ature or even to draughts of air. The building, furring out a broad space for 

throat and lungs become debilitated and that purpose from the walls. In damp 

the whole system torpid. On leaving the locations there would be an additional 

house, the cold or damp air strikes the reason for this arrangement The steeple 

body in its enfeebled state, and inflamma- might be used for this purpose, it being 

tion is the necessary result remembered that the higher we go, the 

The great principle which should regu- cooler and purer the air becomes. The 

late all our arrangements both for winter air for the British House of Parliament 

and summer ventilation, is this; make the is taken from great height, and is cooled 

Jiotue breathe as fast as the people breathe by passing through a subterranean venti- 

who are in it. No person should be com- duct The means thus adopted for the 

pelled to inhale the air which is loaded equal diffusion of the ah as it enters the 

with the impurities of his neighbor's lungs, room, are an iron floor, minutely per- 

The air should be carried off as fast as it forated, covered with a hair carpet, 

is used. To carrj- out this principle in through the interstices of which the air 

the warm weather, when there is no fire finds its way. The eff*ect is a delicious 

in the furnaces, we must attend to various sense of coolness, without any perceptihU 
points. 



1859.] Sketch of Broadway Churchy Norwiehy Ot. 



807 



draught Sach experiments are of coarse 
too expensive for ordinary church edifices. 
The plan adopted in the Broadway 
Church is to introduce the air into the 
platform upon which the pews stand, 
which platform is raised about four inches 
above the level of the aisles. The air is 
thus admitted through half-inch boles, 
bored in the rises along the aisles. The 
hot-air registers are also used for cold air 
in the summer, the current passing freely 
through the air-chamber of the furnace.* 
In the pulpit two large registers are 
placed in the floor on each side of the 
desk, which the speaker may open or 
close, as he pleases. This arrangement 
answers a very good purpose. Any addi- 
tional &cilities for diffusing the air more 
thoroughly at its entrance into the room, 
would be an improvement. In some cases 
the base-board • along the sides of the 
room might be perforated in the same 
manner as the rises in this case. 

The two lecture-rooms in this church 
are supplied with air through perforations 
in the front of the two pulpit platforms, 
into which cold-air tubes empty, and by 
registers opening directly from those 
tubes as they pass under the floor. The 
supply b very inadequate, though it ^ves 
great relief. 

2. The next point to be attended to is 
the drawing oS of the foul air at the top 
of the room. 

It must now be borne in mind that the 
warmest air in the room is that which 
passes from the lungs. In the winter, the 
warmest air is the unbreathed air from 
the furnaces. In winter, therefore, the 
foul air must be drawn from the bottom of 
the room ; in the summer, from the top. 

In emptying the room of foul air at the 
top, several points are important. The 
capacity of the tubes should be at least 
equal to that of the supply tubes below ; 
a uniform upward current should be 
secured, and the force of the current 
should be under control. In respect to 
the fiwt porat— the capacity of the tubes — 
it is difllcult to give any general fole. A 



straight tube will convey more air [than 
one that is bent ; a perpendicnlar tube 
more than one that is in any part hori- 
zontal; a heated tube more than one 
which is cold. In this church the audience- 
room is so well cleared that with ordinary 
audiences, in the hottest weather, there is 
nothing oppressive in the atmosphere. 
The contrast between the coolness and 
airiness of the house and the condition of 
other houses of worship, is a subject of 
general remark. It will be perceived that 
the tubes in this case are very much bent, 
and run for a long distance in a horizontal 
direction. These circumstances materially 
diminish their efficiency, although the 
great height to which they are carried, in 
part remedies the evil. Could they have 
been carried directiy from the opening in 
the ceiling, which is eight feet in diame- 
ter, to the roof, and been thus emptied by 
ejectors of sufficient size, their power 
would have been quadrupled. The im- 
possibilfty of ejectors of sufficient size, 
except at an extravagant cost, prompted 
the adoption of this plan. An apparatus 
has since been invented and patented 
which promises to supply this want It is 
simply an arrangement of blinds, so con- 
trived that the force of the wind will close 
the blinds on the windward side, while by 
a connecting rod the blinds on the leeward 
side are at the same moment set open. It 
is claimed that a downward current is 
thus made impossible. It is called ^ Doug- 
lass's Patent," Backus & Barston being 
the agents for Eastern Connecticut Such 
an apparatus may be so constructed as to 
give a pleasing architectural effect It 
may thus be safely said, that a room cal- 
culated to seat 1,000 persons, may be suc- 
cessfully emptied of air in summer by two 
tubes, heated as below described, each 
eight feet in diameter, passing perpendic- 
ularly to the roof, and then supplied with 
air ejectors of equal capacity. Great care 
will be necessary on the last point, since 
the capacity of the ejector must be meas- 
ured not by its size, but by the space fur- 
nished by the open blinds. 



808 



Sketch of Broadway Ckurehj Nonvieh, Ct. [ July, 



The next important point is to secure a 
uniform upward current This can only 
be done by the application of some motive 
power. In certain states of the atmosphere 
there will be little or no action in the 
ventiducts ; at other times there will be 
a downward current, which will fall like a 
cold shower bath upon the heads of the 
audience. In the French Chamber of 
Deputies the upward current is established 
by means of blowers carried by steam. In 
the British House of Parliament, heat is 
employed. This latter method will be 
usually most convenient and economical. 
In the Corinthian Hall in Rochester, in 
the Philadelphia High School, and in 
some other buildings, coal stoves are 
employed. Shaw, of Boston, has patented 
a gas stove which seems admirably adapted 
to the purpose, which, at an expense of a 
cent and a half an hour, gives a heat 
equal to a ten-inch cylinder stove. Such 
a stove, placed in the tube between the 
ceiling of the audience-room and the roof, 
would create a very powerful and per- 
fectly uniform upward current. Of course 
it must be accessible from the attic floor, 
and the danger of fire must be carefully 
guarded against. 

A defect will be observed in the tubes 
in this church, the tube in the tower hav- 
ing a much less perpendicular height than 
the tube in the steeple. The tendency is, 
of course, to produce a downward current 
in the shorter tube to feed the upward 
current in the longer tube. It was hoped 
that this tendency might be overcome by 
an increase of heat in the shorter tube — a 
hope which has not as yet been fully 
realized. This difliculty will not occur if 
the tubes are carried out directly through 
the roof. 

The third point mentioned, viz., the 
control of the force of the upward current, 
is fully secured by the use of gas, the flow 
of which can be regulated at pleasure. 

The basement rooms in this church are 
emptied of foul air through the space be- 
tween the brick wall and the plastering. 
From this space the air is taken into a 



horizontal tube two feet square which 
passes through the attic under the eaves 
and communicates with the perpendicalar 
tubes in the tower and steeple. If a wide 
space is furred out, a tolerable ventilatioo 
can be secured for a lower story in this 
way. Tubes communicating directly with 
the roof would be much more eflicacioos. 
AU these tubes above and below are 
closed in winter by slides. 

These arrangements for ventilation are 
not by any means a model They were 
made under peculiar embarrassments and . 
were imperfect, simply because the means 
of making them better could not be se- 
cured. Imperfect as they are, however, 
their value can hardly be over estimated. 
A few hundred dollars devoted to this 
purpose will do more to give success to the 
preaching of the word than many thou- 
sands or even tens of thousands expended 
in finical decorations, or in operatic music, 
or even in pulpit learning and eloquence. 
The plainest principles of economy justify 
the outlay. The entire expense of the 
ventilating apparatus in this church was 
less than three b undred. dollars. ^ 

Should any one undertake a similar ex- 
periment he should be prepared to en- 
counter several difficulties. First, he will 
meet with indiflerence and opposition, and 
even ridicule, from the mass of those who 
are to be most benefited. Secondly, not 
one architect in a hundred will render him 
the least assistance, — a remark, it should 
be said, which does not apply to the ar- 
chitect of this church.* Thirdly, builders 
will be sure to regard the whole thing as a 
humbug, and if not closely watched, will 
brick up his flues or floor over his tubes, 
or do some other careless or malicious 
thing which will frustrate all his plans. 
The price of ventilation is eternal viffi- 
lance ! 



I Th« reader b referred to Dr. L. V. BelPs leetora 
before the Mafleachowtta Medical Society In 1848, and 
to the highly satlelkctory experimrDra of Dr. Batlar, 
at the Retreat for the Insane at Hartford, fbr a tm- 
ther anderitanding of these prlnelplct. 

t The arobiteotof the boUdinf is Mr. Sraa Buidkk, 
of NonHeh* 



1859.] 



Literary Natieea. 



309 



§oohd of dirtenst to Congregationaltstd. 



Thb Atonbment. Diacourtea and Treatises 
hy Edwards^ Smattey, Maxy, Emmons, 
Griffin, Surge, and Weeks, With em In- 
iroductory Essay, by Edwards A, Park, 
. Abbot Professor of Christian Theology, An- 
dover. Mass, Boston : Ck>ngregatioxuLl 
Board of Publication, 1859, 8to., pp. 
596. 

This compilation embraces three sermons 
*from the younger Jonathan Edwards ; two 
firom Dr. Smalley ; a discourse from Pres- 
ident Maxy, and two sermons from Dr. 
Bmmons, — all designed to illustrate the 
doctrine of the Atonement. Then follows 
Dr. Griffin's more stately treatise, ** An 
humble attempt to reconcile the differences 
of Christians respecting 'the extent of the 
Atonement"; Caleb Burge's '* Essay on 
the Scripture doctrine of the Atonement " ; 
and Dr. Weeks' "Dialogue" on the Atone- 
ment. It will be seen that, among these 
names are some of the best theologians and 
deepest thinkers which our country has 
produced. The specimens of their works 
here brought together have been too long 
before the public to require a critical notice 
of their contents now. Their republication 
by a Society whose object is to supply ex- 
isting demands, is eridence that they hare 
already stood the test of an ordeal more 
searching and serere than any mere book- 
notice or review, — they have been read and 
accepted by the Christian public. There 
may be slight diversities of judgment among 
good people in respect to some things here 
written, as we mark a difference also on 
minor points among the writers ; but that 
there ih a general agreement in these views 
by Evangelical Christians^-certainly here 
in New England — we have never seen cause 
to doubt. The question,, therefore, as to 
who should give the book an introduction 
to the reader, or whether any one should, 
has not the importance, in our view, which 
was attached to it, as we learn, by the 
Board. Each writer must, of course, stand 
on his own independent merits, and his 
production pass for just what it is worth 
in the estimation of a discriminating pub- 



lic — the writer of the Introduction and his 
performance along with the rest. Any 
other supposition reflects on the read- 
ing community, by placing too low an es- 
timate on their capacity for independent 
thinking. Let us not be understood to 
express a feeling of indifference, with re- 
gard to Prof. Park's Introductory Essay of 
some seventy pages, on ** The Rise of the 
Edwardean Theory of the Atonement," 
which the Executive Committee of the 
Board of Publication adopted. 'Such a 
theme, discussed with such ability, can 
hardly fail to interest intelligent minds, 
whether published in the Bibleotheca Sacra, 
or as the first chapter in a volume like this. 
At the same time many, and perhaps a ma- 
jority of those for whom the publications 
of this Society are especially designed, will 
read this volume with such an absorbing 
interest in its subject matter, as to ciire but 
very little what the so called ** Edwardean 
Theory " is, or whether in fact there be 
any such theory at all. In their hearts 
they will thank the Board of Publication, 
as we do, for putting forth such a precious 
volume, and we hope will be disposed to 
give it their generous patronage. 

Thb Limits of Religious Thought Ex- 
amined in Eight Lectures Delivered be- 
fore the University of Oxford, in the year 
MDCCCLYin., on the Bampton Founda- 
tion, By Henry Longueville Mansel, B, D., 
Reader in Moral and Metaphysical Philoso- 
phy at Magdalen College; tutor and late 
fellow of St, John*s College. Boston : 
Gould & Lincoln. 1859. 12mo., pp. 364. 

The object of this work — a production of 
much ability, — is to show that human rea- 
son is entirely unable to construct a sciei^- 
tific Theology independent of, and superior 
to. Revelation. The method of argument 
is, not to employ revelation in the discus- 
sion ; but to prove, upon philosophical 
principles, themselve^, that the fundamen- 
tal conceptions, by " Rational Theology," 
of the First Cause, the Absolute and the 
Infinite, are self-destructive through the 
■elf-contradictions which every such con- 



810 



IMfitixty^ Ndlicm. 



{3jJViy 



eeption inTolres ; that thus we cannot start 
with any abstract conception of infinite 
Diyinity, and reason down to the human ; 
but must examine our own religious con- 
sciousness, which manifests itself within 
certain specified limits; that the concep- 
tions of this consciousness are such as 
lerelation in general and its several doo- 
tzines in particular, agree with ; and that in 
iCTelation there are no difficulties not pre- 
▼iouslj met with in philosophy. The result 
is to show the utter worthlessness of '* Ra- 
tional " Theology by its own principles of 
argument, and to prepare the way for the 
positive evidence of the truth of the Chris- 
tiaa £iith. The ridiculous cant of the 
** Absolute Rdigion " is, in this work, de- 
molished in a masterly manner. 

Sloquencb a Vi&tub ; or eutUnu of a 
M^MtemcUie Rhetoric, from the Oerman of 
JTteremin, by Prof, Shedd, Andover : W . 
F. Draper, 1859. 2d edition, revised and 
enlarged. 

That such a mind as that of Prof. Shedd 
should feel sufficient interest in this treatise 
to take the trouble of its translation, is, of 
itself^ a guarantee of its substantial excel- 
lence, which the study of the work will con- 
firm. It is not a work of surface sugges- 
tions, but of thorough and philosophic 
analysis, and as such, is of great value to the 
student, and especially to him who habitu- 
ally addresses men on the most important 
themes. 

AiiFORD's Greek Testament, Vol. I. The 
Four Ootpelt, New York: Harper & 
Brothers. For sale by Messrs. Crosby, 
Nichols & Co. 

This will take rank at once here, as it 
has in England, as the critical edition of the 
sacred original. In the most condensed 
and convenient form, it furnishes a com- 
plete critical apparatus ; showing the dis- 
crepancies of the MSS. and furnishing the 
data for estimating the exact position of 
every disputed reading and doubtful pas- 
sage. Brief, yet most useful comment is 
added on every page, while a very thorough 
collection of parallel passages is noted in 
the margin. In the admirable style of this 
reprint, and the varied excellencies of the 
work, little seems to be left for further 
effort in this department. Of course every 
dexgyman ihould own and master the 



book. Three volumes more will complete 
the design. 

I%e Puritan Hymk and Tunb Book; 
Denpted for Qmgregotional Singula, So^ 
cial Meetingt and the Family, Third Edi- 
tion. Boston : Congregational Board of 
Publication, Chauncy Street, 1869. 8vo. 
pp. 112. 

The compilers of this book hare aimed 
to adapt a limited number (366) of choice 
hymns, to a few (67) ** simple, standard, 
and familiar tunes," such as have received 
the stamp of general use and popular fa- 
vor. For vestry and family use, we doubt . 
whether a better compilation has appeared. 
For the " great congregation," an objection 
may be raised against the poverty of sub- 
jects — or perhaps we should say the narrow 
range of hymns to which each subject is 
confined. Tunes that have given utterance 
to the praises of former generations, are 
blended with modem fSavorites, of which 
we notice a goodly number of Dr. Kason's, 
without which no compilation at the pres- 
ent day can be regarded as complete. A 
great improvement in this third edition, is 
a supplement containing eight pages of 
Chants, — that early, and for many ages, 
only method of singing God's praise. The 
typographical execution of the work leaves 
little to be desired. 

The Firtt Records o/* Anglo-American Col- 
onization : Their Hietory, by John Win- 
gate Thornton, Boston : Gould & Lincoln. 
1869. 8vo., pp. 12. 

In a prefatory note the author says, 
** This tract discloses in our own National 
possession the twice lost manuscript Re- 
cords of our origin, of perhaps more preg- 
nant interest to us, as a people, than 
any document which England holds of her 
own primitive history." It appears that 
original documents, which ** have not been 
used by our historians, and lying virtually 
unknown," have come to light, partly 
among the transmitted papers of ** Nicho- 
las Farrar, a London merchant," who was 
one of the most active adventurers in col- 
onizing Virginia, and partly in other by- 
places, which have providentially come 
into the keeping of our National Congress ; 
and Mr. T. most pertinently asks, ** Is it 
not our National duty to have them appro- 
priately edited and published, with aU that 



185».) 



LUerwy NoUeet^ 



au 



the Archives of England contain respecting 
both the London and Plymouth Compa- 
nies." It certainly is; and we hope the 
subject will not be permitted to subside till 
this duty is discharged. 

A Memorial of thb SsMi-CEifTBNNiAL 
Cbleb&ation of the Founding of the 
THSOLOOICA.L Seminary at Andoter. 
AndoTer : Published by Warren F. Dia- 
per. 1869. 8to. pp. 242. 

A full account of the celebration at An- 
dover, August 4th and 5th, 1868, prepared 
by Rev. J. L. Taylor, the Treasurer of the 
Institution, and sanctioned by the Trustees. 
This document is not only an excellent 
history of that occasion, and, of course, an 
invaluable historical sketch of the half 
century then commemorated, but it is full 
of interest to the general reader. The pre- 
vious state of theological education, the 
plans consummated in the union of distinct 
schools in theology, the lives of the foun- 
ders, the results of the establishment of the 
Seminary, are here described in a style 
which has led us to read every word of the 
history of services at which it was our 
privilege to be present. The Commemora- 
tive Discourse by Dr. Bacon, and the ad- 
dresses of Drs. Asa D. Smith, J. S. Clark, 
Haines, Withington, Dimmick, Rowland, 
Wm. Adams, Anderson, Badger, Buding- 
ton. Steams, Wayland, Blagden, Braman, 
N. Adams, Howe, Jackson, Stone, and 
Sears, Profiessors Brown and Park, Rev. 
Messrs. Waldo, Couch, Newton, Taylor, and 
Wolcott, and Messrs. Hubbard and Quincy, 
here make inestimable additions to our 
thedogieal history. 

EscHATOLOOT ; OT the Scripture Doctrine of 
the Coming of the Ijord, the Judgment ^ and 
the Reeunreetion, By Samuel Lee, Bos- 
ton : J. E. Tilton & Company. 1869. 
12mo., pp. 267. 

•*The coming of the Son of Man" is 
here explained as the work of the Messiah 
'*in introducing his kingdom into the 
world, rather than presiding in it." ** The 
Coming of the Lord " is distinguished as 
the ending of our present mode of existence, 
and the consequent power ** of recognizing 
Christ." *<The Judgment" is regarded, 
not as a particular time when the whole 



** race will be assembled, and Judgment 
passed upon them," but as the constant 
rewarding of every man according to his 
works. "The Resurrection " is held to be 
the succession of the ** spiritual body " to 
the "animal," immediately after death. 
These views the writer fortifies with an 
examination of Scripture passages, exhibit- 
ing great industry and remarkable clearness 
of expression, and by the theory that these 
ideas are in accordance with the established 
laws of nature. The work is able and 
valuable, and deserves consideration ; if it 
shakes anybody's faith, it is because their 
faith needs shaking. 

The Birliotukca Sacra for April (the 
July number has not yet made its appear- 
ance on our table,) contains I., Dr. Hick- 
ok's Philosophy ; — U., lliree Eras of Re- 
vival in the United States; — HI., Philo- 
logical Studies ; — lY., On the Descent of 
Christ into Hell;— V., The Theology of 
.£8chylus; — VI., On the Vedic Doctrine 
of a Future Life ; — VH., Editorial Corres- 
pondence ; — Vm., Notices of New Publi- 
cations; — IX., Literary and Theological 
Intelligence. 

Large as the promise is, which this table 
of contents makes to the reader, it is fully 
realized. We have often wondered that 
the conductors of this Quarterly should find 
themselves able to maintain the high rank 
which they took in the outset, and even to 
rise above it, as we think they have, in 
each succeeding volume. Such articles as 
the first and fifth, %f the present number — 
not to disparage others — are sufficient to 
secure, for any periodical that can afford 
them, a high place in the esteem of the 
public — and a generous patronage. 

Cleveland's Compendium of American 
Literature, fbr eaie 6y Mesere, Shepard, 
Clark 4r Browne is a very fair and fieuthftd 
resume of the treasures of the young litera- 
ture which it unfolds. It is done in good 
taste, and not only without that servility 
to slavery which disfigures so much of our 
general writing, but is specially fjEUthful to 
freedom. For this, and many other rea- 
sons, it deserves a large circulation, and 
will prove the standard in its department. 



812 



Omgregatiomd Neerchgy. 



[JjSUij 



€Qn%tt%Kiitsnui iJ^jerroIogj;. 



Rev. HENRY WHITE, who died at 
Garland, Vt., Dec. 7, 1868, was ««bom 
Aug. 3, 1790, at \^brabam, Ms.," as he 
ftated in a letter dated at " St. Albans, 
[Me.] April 1, 1858." He was son of Dr. 
Lewis ~\Vhite, a phytdcian in Wilbraham 
and Longmeadow, Ms., and Susannah 
(King) White, a native of Wilbraham. " I 
have not had," he wrote, ** the advantages 
of a collegiate course. I was connected 
with the Theological Seminary at Bangor, 
Me., some three years, which I left Augiist 
6, 1823. I was ordained over the Congre- 
gational Church at Brooks and Jackson, 
Me., Oct 19, 1826. I have prepared no 
work for the press, excepting The Early 
History of New England, which has passed 
through nine editions, and is now pub- 
lished by Sanborn, Carter & Bazin, Bos- 
ton." Mr. White was installed at Loudon 
Village, N. H., Feb. 11. 1835, and dis- 
missed Dec. 26, 1838. In 1839 he supplied 
the Church at Hillsborough Center ; and in 
1840 received a call at Gilsum, which, 
however, did not result in a settlement. 

Mr. White was *• married, Jan 25, 1827, 
to Esther Sewall, bom in Bath, Me., March 
29, 1802." They had no children. 



Rev. JOHN EDWARD FARWELL, 
died in Fitchburg, Ms., I9bc. 24, 1858. 

He was bom in Ashby, Ms., Dec. 9, 
1809 ; was the child of religious parents, 
and bore in after life the marks of his 
Christian nurture. In early life he was 
employed in mechanical pursuits, but in 
1831, while a member of the Academy at 
New Ipswich, N. H., became interested in 
the subject of personal religion ; and after 
a long period of fear and doubt, light broke 
in, clearly, upon his heart.. This was fol- 
lowed by a determination to enter the min- 
istry. In 1836 he graduated at Amherst 
College, and in 1839 at Andover Theologi- 
cal Seminary, having spent his second theo- 
logical year at Union Seminary, New York. 
He devoted himself to the work of Mii- 
liona, was accepted by the A. B. C. F. M., 



and was ordained at Ashby. But his 
health failing, after spending a year or 
more in a vain effort to secure it, he finally 
received and accepted a call to settle in the 
ministry at Rochester, N. H. Here he la- 
bored with great success and usefulness for 
nearly ten years. After leaving Rochester 
he never was settled, though repeatedly 
urged, but labored in several places, for 
longer or shorter periods, — the last one be- 
ing Pelham, N. H., where the disease ol 
which he died, fastened upon him. 

** The first impression one would receive 
of Mr. Farwell," says Rev. J. T. McCd- 
lum, in a funeral discourse, — and the wri- 
ter of this can testify to its truth, — ** was 
that he was a very gentle, meek, and affec- 
tionate man It was not put on for 

the occasion, but was the natural expres- 
sion of a genial nature and an affectionate 
heart." '* Another prominent characterii- 
tic was decision. . . . He was always a 
reliable man." ** Another was a child-like 
simplicity and frankness." He ** was a 
man of great industry and perseverance." 
As a preacher, he was *< Scriptural, in- 
structive, interesting and useful." As a 
Christian, **hewas simple, earnest, child- 
like in his piety It was with a 

peaceful and happy spirit that he threw 
himself on the mercy of God as manifest in 
Jesus Christ." *< His faith stimulated him to 
action. He did what he could. He used 
the good judgment and rare foresight with 
which Providence had endowed him, to the 
best of his ability, and then threw himself 
on the invisible arm of the Almighty with 
as much confidence and apparent satisfac- 
tion as if he had seen that arm stretched 
out to guide, support, and deliver him. 
He did see it, for the eye of faith has a 
clearer and more reliable vision than the 
eye of sense. That arm did support and 
comfort him. Leaning upon it, calmly, 
gently, he passed through the dark valley. 
He seemed to fear no evil, for God was with 
him, and calmly, * as to a night's repose,' 
he laid himself down to die." 



o 



1869.] 



(kmgregatkml Nwrobgy. 



SIS 



Mr. Farwell married, June, 1842, Miss 
Elizabeth S. Gates, of Ashby ; she survives 
him, together with two sons, the oldest 
and the youngest of five children. 



Rev. THOMAS HALL, who died Feb. 
16, 1859, at the residence of his son-in-law, 
(Mr. Geo. H. Hubbard,) in Guildhall, Vt., 
was a soA of Moody Hall, one of the early 
settlers of Cornish, N. H., at which place 
he was bom, Jan. 28, 1798. During an 
extensive revival which occurred there in 
1814, he obtained hope in Christy and made 
a public profession of religion. He pre- 
pared for college at Kimball Union Acad- 
emy, Meriden, K. H., and was graduated 
at Dartmouth, in 1823. 

He read theology with the Rev. Asa 
Burton, D.D., the distinguished divine 
and metaphysician, of Thetford, Vt. He 
preached for some months in Franconia, 
N. H., and, in June, 1825, was called to 
the pastorate of the Congregational Church 
in Waterford, Vt., where he was ordained, 
Sept. 28, 1825. Rev. SUas M'Keen, of 
Bradford, Vt., preached the sermon. In 
1828, a powerful revival occurred under 
his labors, as the fruits of which fifty- seven 
united with the Church, all but five of them 
on one Sabbath. During his pastorate at 
Waterford, the Church was greatly dis- 
turbed by Anti- Masonry, which was then 
raging furiously in Vermont ; and he, be- 
ing a member of the Masonic order, thought 
it advisable, in 1830, to ask a dismissal. 
Two councils were called, the second of 
which granted his request, Nov. 3, 1830. 

His next field of labor was Norwich, Vt., 
where he was installed, Dec. 22d, 1831. 
Rev. Phineas Cook, of Lebanon, N. H., 
preached the sermon. Much religious in- 
terest existed at Norwich when he was 
settled there, and a revival was the result. 
Nineteen were added to the Church during 
his pastorate, and he was dismissed Oct. 
28, 1834. He then returned to Waterford, 
and resumed labor in his former parish, 
over which he was re-installed about Dec. 
1st, 1835. Here he remained till Jan. 3l8t, 
1844, when he was dismissed. After this 
he preached, as stated supply, for longer 
or shorter terms, at Vershire and Guildhall, 
Vt., and at Bethlehem and Franconia, N. H. 
VOL. X. 40 



Li January, 1858, he commenced preach- 
ing alternately at Upper Waterford, Vt. and 
Dalton, N. H., where he continued till his 
labors were arrested by sickness and deaths 

His death was occasioned by bilious- 
typhoid fever, by which he was attacked 
while visiting his son-in-law at Gtdldhall. 
When danger was first apprehended, he 
expressed entire resignation to the Lord's 
will. ** I desire," he said, " to have no 
will of my own, and do not know as I 
have any, as regards my recovery." He 
remarked several times that the fear of 
death had always weighed heavily upon 
him when in health. On one occasion he 
said, ** I have been all my life-time sub- 
ject to bondage, through fear of death, but 
it is not so now." During his whole sick- 
ness he was quite free from the delirium 
which usually accompanies his disease. 
He desired to see as many of his friends as 
possible, sent messages to many of the ab- 
sent ones, and spoke often of the love of 
Jesus, and of his power to support and 
save, to those who were present. He 
seemed at one time to have a glorious view 
of the blessedness of the heavenly world, 
which he said afterwards he should never 
forget, however long he might stay upon 
the earth. He was able to speak till six 
or seven hours before his death, and down 
to the very last hour he gave most gratify- 
ing proof, by gestures, &c., that he was 
supported by Him who has conquered 
death. To his weeping family he said, 
" Weep not for me, but for yourselves." 
He quietly passed to his reward. 

He married. May 11th, 1824, Marina 
Loomis, of Thetford, Vt. (b. July 2, 1804.) 
They had eight children: 1. Thomas L., 
bom March 17, 1826. 2. Emeline M., b. 
July 12, 1828, died July 31, 1831. 3. Lois 
L., bom Sept. 25, 1830, married Geo. H. 
Hubbard, Aug. 24, 1847. 4. 5. Eliza E.« 
bom Sept. 5, 1833, married Daniel Clark, 
March 8, 1855. 6. 7. Cynthia M., bom 
July 1. 1837, died Feb. 1, 1850. 8. Sam- 
uel W., bora April 6, 1839. The fourth 
and sixth children died in very early in- 
fancy. Iklrs. Hall died ^'eb. 22, 1858, and 
Mr. Hall married, Dec. 29, 1858, Sarah 
Helen Richards, of Hanover, N. H., who 
survives him. p. h. w. 



902. 



Con^ngaHmiA Neenhgy. 



® ongre gatianal 




;-rtteplot of the acade"? 
.„ und resided in Ihc tuwlf 
.^)-, with whom he stuied ll«- 
,,. Ji etnsrd to prescli by the llmip- 
,.H iutioQ i and wiu oiduined pasWi 
liuruli at Eul Hartford, Ct.. June 
. Ajiking a dismis^oa ui 1821, 
. 'ii! coonecdoa ended by the actLoii of > 

> *^ MLlual CoiincU, August 28 : on the 22d of 
u» ' ff OTember of the Mirao year he was inatiUed 
P%'\ o*-erthe PHUips Chuicb, South Boston; 
' ' 1^1 remved uid declined a call to the pasto- 
" he rule of the Federal Street Presbylerian 
^, ID. Church at Newburyport in 1833; WS3 di.- 
.jonsb. missed, at liis request, June 2, 1842; was 
if^^^ds! untl inrtalled over the First Chuich in Exeter. 
Gerahom N. H., Sept. 20, 1813; and dismissedby 
the BCtioii of Council, meeting July 24. 
aar., 2, 1 1844. 

The ercnts which accompanied the latwc 
sqHuatioa are well known. It is neeilieM 
repeat them. It is enough to soy tb»I 
&lr. Fairchild had strong oppowrs and 
strong defenders, during the reniaioder of 
his life. A new church, the " I'ayson 
Church," wa) organixed at South Boston, 
Aug. 10, 1815, by his friends there, of 
which, againat opposition, he was installed 
pastor Nov, 19, 1845. In this position he 
sif^ ^jjnth of their eleven children, remained until shortly before his death, — 
,<j'. when, his health having cntirdy failed, he 

ret^ipicd bis pastoral charge. Mr. Fair- 
child published " KcmarkahlG Incidents in 
theLifeofRev. J. H. Faicthild," in 185S, 
several editions of which were disposed of. 



Rev. HEN-RT WHITB. who died 
Garland, Vt., Dec. 7, 1868, was ■'b< 
Aug. 3, 1790, at Wilbraham, Ms.." n 
stated in a letter dated at " St. . 
[Me.] April 1, 1S5B." He wai K- 
Lewis 'white, a physician in 
and Lnngmeadow, Ms., v -j, 
(King) \Vbilc. a native of V ^> 
have not had," he wrote -''f''^; 
of a eoUegiate couiw ^ '^/i ' 
with the Theologicr , ^>^,' ■* j 
Me., some three j' ; -V^ ■**/<>'i'- 
6,1823. I WW .'.^liK-ioO- 
gutional ChP , VJ^y'j (iJfi fn^-- ^- * 
Me,. Oo( ■ ^rr "y^'Tfur--"' *"'S'«'^ "^ 
work fcr >■>;>»•*>», "f Cambridge- 

ihron f/f^^ <^^ 

-Ush y*^ ^^Feb. 11, 10rZ,mar. 

tcr < jv'-'";^ "■ill", of Wqbum; 

■* f* '**^Cli''"-*'' '" Cambridge, 

"^.rfi'*' "..,. with his wife, Dec, 31, 

Sutton ; As Deacon, 

iiC, ; and died Dec. 25, 









rf(.. ,-^iu9, bom i" Medfonl, Aug. Ifi, 

I* ' ^^ ifceived to the Church 
17'? ' ,,-3i r removed, Ule in life, 

"*'":*. 3" *'"^ '"■ '•i^''' ■'"^J" '^*^' 

"''"^ twiee married ; by his seeond vrife, 
*^th of his nine children 



y. MooDV, bom Feb. 36, 1760, the 
filher of Rev. Thomas, the subject of the 
j^TO notice. The IloU family w'"' ' ' ' 






cetcd is very large. 



Rev. GAD NEWELL died in Nelwm, 
N. U., Feb. 26, 18.59. 

IS bom in Southington, Ct., Sept- 
: was the son of Isaac and Rachel 
which (Pomeray) Newell, and of the fifth genera- 
II. a. tion from Thomas Newell, one of the first 
Betllers of Fannington, Ct., and was the 
Bev. JOY II. FAIRCIULD, who died at eighth of nine children, and the focbh^st of 
South Boston, Mh., Feb. 21, 1869, was the whole, but outlived them all by many 
bora in Guilford, Ct., April 24, 17B0, the years. Until his siiteenth year he at- 
yonngest of eight children ; commenced templed to labor upon the farm, but Ms 
attingfor eollege when about eighteen, un- bealtli and strength Reemediniuflicient, and 
dcr the care of Rev. Aaron Dutton of GuU- he commenced learning the irade of a sad- 



ford, and about th&same time united with 
the First Church there onproie.™onof faith. 
— graduated at Ynle College in 1813. Ini- 



dler ; here, however, Providence hedged 
up liis way by the temporary dinabilily of 
his right hand ; and while laid UNde E 



mediacely upon leaving college, lie entered manual Iftbor, he pursued the ttndy of 



'.] 



Ccngregatiowil Necrology. 



315 



.Grreek under the care of his pas- 
\ Robinson. He was thus pre- 
ctedly, to enter Yale College 
\ year ; and in the spring of 
id the Freshman Class, 
grossing there a power- 
iigion ; he became deeply 
child of pious parents, of the 
an stock and characteri it was not 
at a long and deep experience of 

i.aw work " that he at length indulged a 
Christian hope ; and he did not venture to 
unite with the Church there until he had 
entered his Junior year. After graduating, 
in 1785, and teaching for a year in Milford, 
Ct., he began the study of Theology under 
the care of Dr. Smalley ; he preached his 
first sermon in the pulpit of Rev. Dr. Up- 
BOn of Kensington parish, and after officia- 
ting in several places, was ordained the 
second pastor of the church in Nelson (then 
Packerstield,) June 11, 1794. Of this 
church he remained the pastor, (assisted 
from July 12, 1836, to May 5, 1840, by Rev. 
Josiah Ballard as colleague,) until, on ac- 
count of the infirmities of age, he was dis- 
missed, at his own request, Sept. 3, 1841. 
He remained, however at Nelson, the re- 
mainder of his days. 

•* His doctrines," says Rev. Dr. Barstow 
in a deeply interesting funeral sermon, 
•* were those laid down in the Westminster 
Assembly's Compend of Christian faith. 
He was plain and direct in preaching these 
truths, endeavoring to commend them to 
every man's conscience, in the sight of God. 
And God owned his ministry in a signal 
manner, by keeping you [the people] more 
united than almost any other parish in the 
country, and in granting pleasing revivals 
of religion under his ministry. In 1778 
there was a great work of grace here ; in 
1814 and 1815, 22 were added to the 
church ; in 1827, there was an ingathering 
of 66 ; and during his ministry, 321 were 
added to the church." . . . "He preached 
occasionally, with animation, till he was 
ninety years of age." ... ** The very last 
time he visited me, just as he was entering 
on his ninety-sixth year, I inquired, ** Do 
you see any grotmd to change your views 
of religious truth ? ' He answered, most 
emphatically, < No ! I am more and more 



confirmed in them, as the faith once deliv- 
ered to the saints.* " 

Mr. Newell married, June 11, 1795, Miss 
Sophia Clapp, " a most estimable and godly 
woman." She died Sept. 12, 1840. They 
had four children ; the first two, sons, lived 
each but a few weeks ; their daughter mar- 
ried Rev. John S. Emerson, and was, with 
him, a Missionary to the Sandwich Islands ; 
their remaining son. Dr. O. P. Newell, is 
an esteemed Deacon of the Church in Nel- 
son. 



A sermon upon the death of Mr. GIL- 
BERT RICHMOND, of Providence, R. I., 
preached by Rev. Dr. Leavitt, of that city, 
is published in the Providence Evening Press 
of April 16, 1859. It is a worthy tribute 
to a faithful and useful Christian. Mr. 
Richmond, we gather from it, was bom in 
Newport, R. I., in the year 1800 ; when a 
lad of thirteen, removed to Bristol to 
learn the bakers' trade ; was hopefully con- 
verted at the age of twenty, and imited 
with the Church there ; and from that time 
began to do the Divine will in a life of 
practical piety. Removing to Providence 
in 1822, he assisted in building up what, 
by union, is now the Richmond Street 
Church (Dr. Leavitt' s) ; with others, held 
neighborhood prayer-meetings in outskirts 
of the city ; engaged in Mission Sabbath 
Schools ; was active and prominent in the 
Temperance cause; was busy in Tract 
operations ; and was foremost in matters of 
Christian benevolence generally. While 
residing from 1839 to 1840 in New Bed- 
fom, he was Deacon of the South Church, 
and Superintendent of its Sabbath School. 
In or about 1850, he declined an invitation 
to become a City Missionary in Lowell, 
Ms. In 1846 he resumed the duties of Sab- 
bath School Agent for R. I., in which, 
year by year, he travelled from 600 to 
2000 miles annually, near or quile half on 
foot; gave from 50 to 186 lectures, and 
gathered schools in waste places, where 
now are flourishing churches. He died in 
Providence, March 18, 1859. The union of 
such consistent piety i^'ith such practical 
benevolence, as described in Dr. Leavitt's 
sermon, deserves to be commemorated in a 
more permanent form. 



816 



Cangreg^onal Necrology. 



[July, 



Rev. JOHN RICHARDS, D. D.,» was 

•• bom of worthy parents, at Farmington, 
Ct.fMay 14, 1797. His fjetther was an ofiicer 
of the Revolution, a good Christian, and an 
konest man. He was a deacon of the 
church, held responsible offices in the Gen- 
eral and State governments, and was a pat- 
tern of the civic and Christian virtues of 
the old school which has now nearly passed 
away. An intelligent Mend characterized 
him as the best specimen of the old Puritan 
stock of New-England that he had known. 
He commanded his children and his house- 
hold after him to fear God. 

At the age of seventeen, being then a 
clerk in the neighboring city of Hartford, 
and intended for mercantile pursuits, our 
Pastor came under the ministry of the ven- 
erable Dr. Strong. He was greatly in- 
structed and moved by the preaching of that 
distinguished man. His mind became pro- 
foundly engaged upon the great doctrines 
of the gospel, and after many spiritual con- 
flicts his heart was bowed to Christ. 

Then he returned to Farmington, resolved 
upon a different pursuit of life, and said, 
with his characteristic abrupt and unstudied 
air : ** Father, I want to study, and to 
preach the gospel." 'Twas said and done. 
He became, in due time, a student at Yale. 
During his Junior year, being then more 
quickened in his religious feelings, he made 
profession of his faith. He graduated with 
honor, in 1821 ; at The Theological Semina- 
ry, Andover, Mass., in 1824 ; was then for 
one year, an Agent of the American Board 
of Commissioners for Foreign Missions ; 
from 1827 to 1831, an honored pastor at 
Woodstock, Vt. ; then, till 1837, an asso- 
ciate editor of the Vermont Chronicle ; and 
in 1841 was installed as pastor of the 
church at Dartmouth College. To speak 
more particularly of his early history would 
be to repeat what we learned from his 
friend and classmate,^ at his funeral. 

In all these relations Dr. Richards was 
true to his heavenly calling ; always an 
active student, a comprehensive scholar, 
ranging widely in the fields of knowledge ; 

1 We take this notice from the excellent sermon by 
Rev. Dr. Lord, Preeident of Dartmouth College, 
preached April 8, 1859. To qaote all which we should 
wish to quote would embrace the whole diBoourse. 

s ReT. DaTld Oieene, of Windaor, Yt. 



thoroughly versed in the subjects of his 
profession, faithfid to Christ, and heartily 
devoted to the best interests of mankind. 
No man ever questioned his learning, in- 
tegrity, or piety. He was never kno¥m to 
sacrifice a righteous principle, to balk an 
honorable purpose, to shrink from a neces- 
sary sacrifice, to betray a trusty to q>eak 
evil of his neighbor, to renounce a friend, 
or hate an enemy, to his dying day." 

Characterized by " simplicity, guileless- 
ness and sincerity, " ** a faithful student of 
the Bible ; " a lover of ** the old truths 
which had grown experimentally into his 
conscious soul, and had become a part of 
his inmost life ; " "he believed, not be- 
cause it stood so in reason, but because it 
was so written, and that to say otherwise 
would be to set forth himself and not Jesus 
Christ ; " "a loving, genial man in his 
household and in his social relations ; " **a 
man of God." 

"He had largely the confidence of his 
brethren as a sound theologian, and a lib- 
eral scholar. They honored his character, 
and respected his opinions. He compre- 
hended, in his measure, as few are privi- 
leged to do, God's revealed plan of gov- 
ernment by Jesus Christ, for he never ask- 
ed what man imagines, but what God says 
about it, and that led him meekly and so- 
berly into a wide compass of inquiry. 
When the mind of God, on any subject 
was made plain to him, as it usually was, 
for he searched in the day-light, then he 
rested, laid up his gains, and went on to 
larger studies." 

He died at Hanover, N. H., (where he 
was still a pastor,) of congestion of the 
brain, March 29, 1859. 



llev. WILLIAM D. FLAGG died in 
Boylston, Ms., May 12th, 1859, aged 30. 

At the age of fourteen years, the subject 
of this notice made a public profession of 
religion, uniting with the Congregational 
Church in Boylston, his native town. He 
early consecrated himself to the service of 
Christ in the ministry. 

He prepared for college imder Prof. Nash 
at the Mt. Pleasant boarding school in Am- 
herst, Ms., at the same time laboring and 
teaching for support. He graduated at 



1859.] 



Ckmgregcdxonal Necrology. 



817 



Amherst College in the class of 1853. After 
spending about a year in teaching a High 
School in Holyoke, he entered Bangor The- 
ological Seminary. Remaining there one 
year he completed his Theological course 
at Andover in 18o7. He was ordained as 
an Evangelist at Glover, Vt., January 12, 
18t58, and having been permitted to labor in 
the ministry nearly one year at Barton in 
the same State, he returned to the home of 
his childhood, to waste away in consump- 
tion and die. 

The deceased was the subject of very early 
as well as permanent and controlling reli- 
gious impressions. The precise date of his 
hopeful conversion, is unknown to the wri- 
ter ; but as early as his 12th or 14th year, 
when his companions gathered on their 
spring holiday, he did not join in their 
sports, but took his Bible and spent the 
day in his closet with God. So exem- 
plary was his early piety that it was a 
common remark concerning him, ** If there 
is a true Christian, I believe he is one.** 
The piety of his maturer years was to an 
unusual degree, uniform, consistent, genial, 
and self-denying. 

His character presented many strong 
points. He was possessed of marked cheer- 
fulness, vivacity, and perseverance. No- 
thing short of a high degree of these, would 
ever have carried him through the obstacles 
he met in obtaining an education. He was 
one of the few who were always at the 
prayer-meeting and always interested and 
interesting. His prayers manifested a pe- 
culiarly deep Christian experience, and 
freedom of intercourse with Heaven, and 
all his life confirms this impression of him. 

The debts incurred for his education were 
a constant source of anxiety and discour- 
agement to him. But the vigor of his man- 
liness and piety bore him nobly through. 
What a burden was lifted from his heart, 
how he thanked God and took courage, 
when now and then some servant of Christ, 
blessed with this world's goods, relieved his 
need. His life was a beautiful example of 
filial fidelity. His own unusual burdens 
he made no excuse for neglecting the cares 
and interests of his widowed mother. Her 
he cherished with unwearied, tender and 
s^-denying affection. In indies he was 



distinguished more for faithful, persevering 
industry than for quickness of acquisition ; 
more for solidity than brilliancy of schol- 
arship. 

He toiled on with marked diligence and 
with perseverance that won a noble success. 
Ten years he studied and was permitted to 
preach but one. Yet his labor was not in 
vain. The record of his brief ministry is 
one upon which friends will long delight to 
dwell. 

An officer of the church in Barton writes : 
" He seemed ready for every good word 
and work. He went from house to house 
entreating men to be reconciled to God. 
He labored with success in our Sabbath 
School ; he was loved by young and old. 
We should have been glad to settle him as 
our pastor had it been the will of God." 

Through most of his sickness he mourned 
the absence of that ardor of love toward 
Christ and that sense of his presence which 
he desired, yet expressed great confidence 
that if removed, assurance would be granted 
him before death. He cherished the delu- 
sive hope of life almost to the last, and 
hence did not accustom himself to commune 
with death as a near reality. When it was 
announced to him that his end was very 
near and the last ray of earthly hope went 
out, he was in great darkness and fear. 
He did not doubt the sufficiency of Christ, 
but questioned his own saving interest in 
him. When asked if some earthly interests 
troubled him, he replied, •* No, that is not it 
>at all. All these things are nothing. I 
want a realization of a vital union to Christ 
and his cross." 

After this short struggle he was calm and 
trustful, though rarely joyful. The love 
and filial trust of a child were his, rather 
than the rapture sometimes experienced. 
He left as his dying charge to the young 
people of the place. *• Seek at once an ifvtef' 
est in Christ, Secttre the pearl of great price. 
Let nothing prevent" 

On Wednesday, May 11th, in great suf- 
fering, which none expected him to survive, 
he was entirely conscious, and said with 
great expressiveness, as if the light of 
heaven already began to appear, " / can 
now see through,** On Thursday morning, 
he peacefully *< fell asleep." 



318 



Churches Formed — Payors Dismissed. 



[JULT, 



Congrtgational (^tiarterlg ^Ijetorir* 



[Readerfl are ivquested to send information of any errors they may diacoTer in the following lists, and 
Also to snppiy any omisaions ; such correctiona and additions will be gladly receired, and will be inserted in 
sooceeding nnmbers. We wish to make a complete and accurate hiatorioal record.] 



Cfjurcjess iFormeti. 



Mar. 13. 

" 28. 
AprU 10 
" 11. 
•* 26. 
" 27. 

>Iay 22. 



" LINCOLN, Lojfan Co , 111. 

*' HAMPDEN, Kansaa. 

*• RICH VIEW, Watihington Co., 111. 

'*■ PORT NORFOLK, (in Dorchester) Ms. 

»' WAYNE, Caw Co., Mich. 

" YARMOUTH, Me., the " Central Cong. 

Church." 
»' COLLINS STATION, Clinton Co., lU. 



MARCH 2. RcT. Y. B. WHEELER, from the Ch. in 
Baco, Me., to ac^cf^pt a call from Presb. Ch. in 
Poogbkeepaif, N. Y. 

8. ReT. 8. C. BARTLETT, from the New England 
Ch., Chicago, 111. 

10. ReT. T. S. NORTON, from the Ch. in SuUiTan, 

N. H. 
10. ReT. CHARLES W. TORREY, from the Cong. 

Ch. at East Cl«a?eland. Ohio. 

— ReT. WM. CLAOOETT, from the Cong Ch. at 
Went Hartford, Vt. 

— ReT. ASA F. CLARK, from the Ch. in Peru, Vt. 

17. Rev. WILLIAM E. BASSETT, from the Ch. in 
Central Village, Ct. 

29. ReT. CHARLES JONES, from the Ch. at Battle 
Creek, Mich., — connection to end with the lost 
Sabbath in May. 

APRIL 4. ReT. J. B. WHEELWRIGHT, from the 
Ch. in Westbrook, Me. 

6. ReT. JOHN LAWRENCE, from the Ch. in Car- 
lisle, Mh. 

— ReT. CI1.\RLES A. AIKEN, from the Ch. in 
Yarmouth, Me. 

18. ReT. JOSEPH BLAKE, from the Ch. in Cumber- 
land, Me. 

— Rev. EDGAR J. DOOLITTLE, from the Ch. at 
Chester, Cc. 

19. ReT. HARVEY ADAMS, fh>m the Ch. iu Famj- 
ington, Iowa. / 

19. R«-T. S. J. AUSTIN, from the Ch. in Maiwn Vil- 
lage, N. U. 

20. ReT. DAVID EASTMAN, from the Ch. in LeT- 
erett, Ms. 

20. ReT. GEORGE RICHARDS, from the Central Ch. 
Boston. 

MAY 4. ReT. WM. DAVENPORT, from the Ch. in 
Strong, Me. 

10. Hev. THEODORE WELLS, from the Cong. Ch. in 
Barrington, N. H.,— connection to end May 29. 

16. ReT. JAVIE3 M. HOPPIN, from the Crombie 
Street Ch., Salem, Ms. 

17. Rev. JAMES H. DILL, from the Ch. at Spencer- 
port, N. Y.,— to go to Chicago, III. 

18. ReT. WM. B. CLARKE, from the Ch. in North 
Cornwall, Ct. 

— ReT. HENRY M. BRIDGE, from the Ch. in War- 
wick, Ms. 



19. ReT. MEL.\NCTHON G. WHEELER, from the 
Ch. in South Dartmouth, Ms. 

— ReT. ASA B. SMITH, from the Ch. in Bneklaad, 
Mass., — connection to end August 1. 

— ReT. 8. B. GOODENOW, from the Ch. in Saoger- 
tien, N. Y. 

— ReT. C. N. SEYMOUR, from the Ch. in Whately, 

Mass. 

81. ReT. DAVID B. SEWALL, fhnn the Ch. in Bob- 
binston. Me. 

JUNE 9. ReT. MARCUS AMES, from the Cb. at 
Westminster, Ms. 

— R«T. A. G. HIBBARD, connected with the Elgin 
Association, 111., has been formally depoeed from 
the ministry by that Association, for errors io 
doctrine. 



fHtntdterst ®rtiatnet3, or Snsttalleti. 

FEB. 11. Mr. ROBERT G. BAIRD, at Toronto, C. 
W., OTer tlie Cong. Ch. at Port Sarnia. Intro- 
ductory serTices, ReT. James Boyd ; *^ Usual 
questions to the Pastor elect," ReT. William 
Hay ; Ordaining prayer, ReT. Daniel McCaUum ; 
Charge to the Pastor, ReT. Edward Ebbs ; Ad- 
dr«88 to the People, ReT. John Wood, on the 
words '■*■ Encourage him." 

16. Mr. QUINCY BLAKELY, at Rodman, N. Y. ; 
Si^rmon by Rev jMmes Douglas, of Rutland; 
Ordaining prayer by *' Father Spe-ir," of Rod- 
man. [.Mnrried, Dt^:. 9, 1858, in Dorset, Vt., to 
Miss Gertrude Sykes, of Dorset.] 

MARCH 8. ReT. E. £. WILLIAMS, OTer the Cong. 
Ch. at Warsaw, Wyoming Co., N. Y. Right 
Hand of Fellowship by Rev. J. Edwards of Roch* 
ester, N. Y. 

9. ReT. HENRY BATES, over the Ch. in Almont, 
Mich. Sermon by Rev. U. D. Kitchel, D.D , of 
Dt'troit. Installing prayer by Rev. E. T. Branch, 
of Canandaigua. 

10. Rev. NATHANIEL L. UPHAM, OTer the Ch. in 
Mancbepter, Vt. Sermon by ReT. Henry £. Par- 
ker, Concord, N. H. Ordaining Prayer by B«t. 
A. Walker. 

22. Mr. GEORGE T. WASHBURN, at Lenox, Bis. ; 
an accepted missionary of the A. B. C. F. M. to 

the Madura Mission. 

80. ReT. EDWIN A. BUCK, late of Bethel, Me., 
over the Cong. Ch. at SlatersTille, R. I. Sermon 
by Rev. U. D. Walker, of Abiogton, Ms. In- 
stalling Prayer by Rev. 0. F. Otis, of Chepachet, 
K. L 

APRIL 13. Rev HENRY O. LUDLOW, late of the 
1st Presb. Ch. in Poughkeepi*ie, N. Y., over the 
CoDg. Ch. in Oswego, N. Y. Sennun and In- 
stalling Prayer by Itev. Dr. Ray Palmer, of Al- 
bany, N. Y. 

13. Rev. C. E. FISHER, over the Lavrrence St. Ch., 
Lawrence, Ms. Sermon by Rev. E. B. Foster, of 
Lowell. Insulliug Prayer by Rev. C. W. Wal- 
lace, of Manchester, N. U. 

13. Rev. ELBRIDQE G. LITTLE, over the Cong. Ch. 
at North Mi4(Ueboro', Mi. Sennon bj B«t. X. 



1859.] 



Ministers Ordained. — Ministers Married. 



319 



Mftltby, of TanntOD. InBtalling Pray«r by Rer. 
M. Blake, of Taunton. 

14. Mr. JAS. F. CLARKE, at Holdi>n, Ms. to the Mis- 
rionary work in Turkey. Sermon by Rev. A. C. 
Thompson, of Roxbury. Ordaining Praver by 
Rer. W. P. Paine, DD , of Uolden. The Chnrge 
was giTen by Mr. Clnrke's father, Kev. Mr. 
Cl«rl(e, of WiochendoD. [See, also, Marriages ] 

20. Mr.'CHARLES C. SALTER, OTer the Cong. Ch. 
at Kewaoee, III. 

20 ReT. 0. BUCKINQHAM WILLCOX, late of the 
Lawrence St. Ch.. Lawrence, Mit , o?er the 2d 
Cong. Ch. in New London. Ct. Sermun by Prof. 
Park, of AndoTer, Ms. InsUlling Prayer by 
Rer^ Dr. Bond, of Norwich^ 

aO. Mr. JOHN 8. SEW ALL, oyer the Ch. In Wen- 
ham, Ms. Sermon by ReT. J. B. Sewiill, of 
Lynn, (brother to the first named.) Ordaining 
Prayer by Rev. Jotham Sewall, his futher. 

— ReT. HENRY D. KING, orer the Ch. in Mag- 
nolia, UnrriKon Co., lown. Sermon by ReT. 
John Todd. Installing Prnyer by ReT. G. Rice. 

28. Prof. F. W. FISK. recently of Bwloit College, but 
then Professor elect in Chicago Theological Sem- 
inary, was ordained at Chicago. III., without pas- 
toral charge. Sermon by ReT. Z. M. Humphrey, 
of Milwaukee, Wis. 

MAT 8. Mr A D. CHAP.MAN, OTer the Ch. In Sew- 
ard, G lesson's Ridge, 111. Sermon by ReT. E. B. 
Turner. 

8. ReT. WM. S. SMITH, late of New York, OTcr the 
1st Ch. in Guilford, Ct. Sermon by ReT. R. 8. 
Storrs. Jr., D D., nf Brooklyn, N. Y. Installing 
Prayer by Rbt. O. H. White, of Meriden. 

6. Mr. niLLYER, by the Presbytery of CleTelaod, 
OTer the Cong. Ch. in HrerksTille, Ohio. Ser- 
mon by ReT. Thomas H. Goodrich. Ordaining 
Prayer by ReT. Wm. Day. 

11. ReT. A. F. CLARKE, recently of Peru, oTer the 
Cong Ch. in Ludlow, Vr. Sermon by ReT. J. D. 
Wickham, of Manchester. 

11. RcT. LE\VIS BRIDGMAN, late nf West Hnwley, 
Ms., OT<>r the Ch. in Hiddlefield, Ms. Sermon 
by ReT. R. Foster. Installing Prayer by ReT. 
W. C. Foster. 

12. Mr. STEPHEN S. MERRILL, OTer the Cong. Ch. 
in Maiden, III. Sermon by ReT. J. BlanchHrd, 
nf Oalesburg Ordaining Prayer by ReT. D. 
Todd, of ProTideoce. 

12. 5!r. HBNUY LANGPAAP, of Moscatlne, Iowa, at 
Wilton, OTer th« Germnn Ch. Sermon by IU-t. 
George F. Magoun, of Da Ten port. Ordaining 
Prayer by ReT. J. A. Reed, of DaTenport. 

17. ReT. S. B. GOODENOW. late of Saugerties, N. 
Y., OTer the 1st Cong. Ch. at RockTille, Ct. 

18. ReT. W. B. DADA, over the Cong. Ch. in Jack- 
son, Mich. Sermon by ReT. Dr. U. D. Kitchel, 
of Detroit. 

18. Mr. AUSTIN WILLEY, oTer the Ch. at Anoka, 
Minn. Sermon by ReT. D. Burt, of Winona. 
Ordaining Prayer by ReT. Royal Twichell. 

18. ReT. STEPHEN FENN, OTer the Ch. at South 
Cornwall, Ct. Sermon by ReT. L. Perrln, of 
New Britain. Installing Prayer by ReT. Dr. 
Joaeph Eldrldge, of Norfolk. 

— Mr. J. E. CARTER, as an ETangelist, at Green- 
port, Ij. 1. Ordaining Prayer by ReT. J. H. 
Franpis. 

19. ReT. MARTIN S. HOWARD, late of West Yar- 
mouth. Ms., OTcr the Ch. in South Dartmouth, 
Mi. Sermon by ReT. J. H. Means, of Dorches- 
ter. Installing Prayer b> Rit. W. Craipf,ol New 
Bedford. 

19. BeT. C. M. TYLER, late of Oalesburg, 111., OTer 
the Ch. in Natick, Ms. 8<-rmon by ReT. J. M. 
Manning, of Boston. 

25. B«T. 8TXPHEN ROGERS, lato of Northfldd, 



orer the Ch. in Woloott. Ct. Sermon by Rer^ 
James Averill, of Plymouth Hollow. Initalling 
Prayer by ReT. Austin Putnam, of Whitneyville. 

JUNE 1. Mr. EVAUTS SCUDDER, OTer the Cong. 
Ch. at Kent, Ct. Sermon by IteT. Dr. N. Ad- 
ams, of Boston Ordaiuiug Pruyer by ReT^ Dr^ 
J. Kldridge, of Norfolk. 

1; Mr. HENRY LOOMIS, Jr.^ oTer the "Union*' Ch; 
at Globe Village, Southbridge, Ms. Sermon by 
KeT. Dr. £. N. Kirk, of Boston. Ordaining 
Prayer by ReT. Eber Carpenter, of Southbridge. 

2. Mr. WILLIAM A. McGINLEY, over the Ch. in 
Shrewsbury, Ms. Sermon by ReT. Dr. Seth 
Sweetser, of Worcester. Ordaining Prayer by 
ReT. Dr. W. P. Pain*-, of Holden. 

2. Mr. JOHN 0. BAIRD, OTer the Gong. Ch. at 
Centre Brook, Say brook, Ct. 

8. Mr. D. N. BORDWELL, OTer the Ch. at Le 
Claire, Iowa. Sermon by ReT. G. F. Magoun, of 
DaTenport. Ordaining Prayer by ReT. William 
Porter, of Port Byron, 111. 

8 Mr. LORING B MARSH, at South Scituate.R.I., 
as an ETangelist Sermon by ReT. A. H. Clapp, 
of Proviilence. Ordaining Prayer by ReT. Dr. 
Leonard Swain, of Providence. 

8. ReT. CHRISTOPHER M CORDLEY, lata of West 
Randolph, Ms., oTer the Ch. in West Brookfield, 
Ms. Sermon by ReT. Dr. R. S. Storrs, of Urain- 
tree. Installing Prayer by ReT. M. Tupper, of 
Hard wick. 

8. ReT. E. D. MURPHY, oTer the Cong. Ch. at 
ATon. Ct. Sermon by ReT. Prof. Hitchcock, of 
New York. Installing Prayer by ReT. Dr. Por- 
ter, of Farmington. 

9. Mr. CHARLES REDFIELD, of EHtabethtown, N. 
Y., as an ETangelist. Sermon by lieT. Dr. Kay 
Palmer, of Albany . N. Y. 

9. Rev. BROWN EMERSON, late of Montague, Ma , 
OTer the Ch. at Westminster, .Ms. Sermon by 
ReT. E. B. Foster, of Lowell. Installing Prayer 
by ReT. J. C. Paine, of Gardner. 

9. Mr. H. D. BLAKE, oTer the Ch. at MendoU, 111. 

16. ReT. JAMF.S AIKEN, OTer the Ch. In HanoTer 
(Four Coriier»«) Mass. Sermon by ReT. H. D. 
Wallcer, of East Abington. Installing Prayer by 
R«T. Joeeph Peckliani. 

21. ReT. T. C. PRATT, OTer the Ch. In Hamp- 
Btead, N. H. Sermon by IteT. J. P. Terry, of 
South Weymouth, Ms. Ordaining Prayer by 
ReT. J. Perkins, of Braintree, Ms. 



iBHinissterjJ iWanieti. 

MARCH 24. At West Medway, Ms., ReT. JACOB 
IDE, Jr., to Miss ELLBN .M., daughter of Unu. 
John Rogers, both of Mansfield. 

— Rev. WM. A. BARTLETT, of Brooklyn, N. Y.,tO 
Mi:>s CHARLOTTE A. FLANDEUS, of Milwau- 
kee, Wis. 

APRIL 6. At Topsfield, Ms.. ReT. MARTIN MOORE, 
one of the proprietors of the Boston Recorder y to 
Mi>«s SUSAN CUMMINGS, both of Boston. 

14. Ac Holden, Ms , ReT. JAMES F. CLARKE to 
Miiis ISABELLA G., daughter of the late Thomas 
Jones Davis, Esq.. [See *' Ordained. ''J 

19. At Che:*hire, Ct , ReT. DANIEL MARCH, of Wo- 
buru, Ms., to Mrs. ANNIE L. CONTE. 

28. At Bangor, Me., ReT FRANCIS PELOUBET, of 
UnesTille, (Gloucester) Ms , to MARY ABBY, 
eldest daughter or Sidney Thaxter, Esq., of 
Bangor. 

MAY 6. At St. Johnsbury, Vt , ReT. C. L. GOOD- 
ELL, of New Britain, Ct., to Mias EMILY, 
daughter of Hon. Erastas Fairbanka, of St. Johna- 
bury. 



820 



StaHstiealy dte. 



[Jva, 



U. At Albmny, N. T , Rcr. 8TBPHIN UUBBBLL, 
of North StoniDgton, Ct., to MIm HARUIKT T., 
daughter of tbe Uta Esra Ilawley, of Catekill, 
N. Y. 



— At BrookHne, Mi., Bmw. HENRT LOOMI8, Jr., 
of Soathbridge, to Hiss FANNIE E. CRAFT, of 
Brookliue. 



f&inisitttsi IBtctasittJ. 



12. At Sprfngfleld, Mf., Rer. THOMAS JORDAN, of 
Spriiigfivld, to MiM BLLBN WOODS. 

16. At BarliDgtOD, Yt., Rev. SPENCBR MARSH to 

MiM 9ARAH ANN WHBBLBR, both of Bur- MAT 12. In Boyl»ton, Ms., Rer. WM. D. F^JIGO, 
iington. . ag«d 80. 



OUR STATE STATISTICS. 

The Statistics of the Orthodox Congrega- 
tionaIi»t Churches in Massachusetts have 
been collected for the past year, although not 
to be published in full until after the session 
of the General Association. This year, for the 
first time, reports are had from every Con- 
gregationalist Church in the State. We gather 
from the tables the following items : 

There are, in Massachusetts, 486 Orthodox 
Congregationalist Churches,^a gain of two* 
There are 27 Associations of clergymen, and 
18 Conferences of churches ; the Associations 
embrace the bulk of the clergymen in active 
service ; the Conferences include 343 church- 
es, (perhaps a few more.) The entire mem- 
bership is 76,876, (of which almost precinely 
one third are males;) that of the preceding 
year, 69,432, — showing a net gain in 1858, of 
7,444. The admissions in the year 18^8, were, 
by profession, 8,811; by letter, 2,497; total, 
11,308. The removals were, by death, 1,172; 
by dismission, 2,416; by excommunication, 
78; total, 3,666; and there were three or 
four hundred losses of names by revision of 
Church lists, — a work going on for some 
years past. The number of baptisms were, 
of adults, 3,094 ; of infants, 1,721. The num- 
ber of persons in Sabbath Schools were 79,760, 
— a net gain of more than 6,000. There 
appear to be no Orthodox Congregational 
Churches in 27 small towns ; but there is 
evangelical preaching in all of these, and in 
most of them are Orthodox persons, members 
of our churches in adjoining and easily acces- 
sible places. 

The admissions to the churches for a few 
years past have been as follows : 



Year. 


Profession. 


Letter 


1349 


1,185 


1,510 


1850 


8.449 


1,976 


1861 


1,674 


1,599 


1852 


2.114 


1,776 


1863 


1,681 


2,068 


1864 


1,713 


1,618 


1865 


2,444 


1.790 


1856 


1,843 


1,710 


1867 


2,993 


2,027 


1858 


8,811 


2,497 



A LITTLE ADVICE. 

Brother, — you who have been appointed to mtb- 
Uah the statistics in your Beeiesiastieal Asso- 
ciation or Conference, — 

Unless you want your issues to promote sin 
on the part of your readers, please 

1. Insert Associations, and towns in Asso- 
ciations, in strictly alphabetical order. 

2. Give an index of clergymen, arranged 
alphabetically. 

3. Give an index of toums or other localities 
where your churches exist, arranged alpha- 
betically. 

4. Insert in some conspicuous place the 
names of the officers of the General Associa- 
tion, and the time and place of next meeting. 

5. Remember that the sole value of these 
publications is in the informaiioti they afibrd. 
Please don't be afraid to inform people, nor 
to give them facilities for easily ascertaining 
what they want to know. The things which 
you know, are the things they don't know. 

6. When your issues are printed, be liberal. 
Send four copies to this Congregational Quar- 
terly ; three more to the C(mgregational Li- 
brary Association ; one to every permanent 
Library in your State; two to your State His- 
torical Society ; two to each Secretary and 
Statistical Secretary of each General Associa- 
tion ; one to each of the Congregational 
newspapers in the United States ; one to 
Harvard College ; one to the Massachusetts 
Historical Society ; two to each of our Theo- 
logical Seminaries ; and then make arrange- 
ments for exchanges with every other Secre- 
tary sufficient to give one to each local Asso- 
ciation, — which means that Massachusetts 
needs and wants twenty-seven, and will give 
in return to every State body, enough to sup- 
ply its local Associations with one apiece. 
Do all this, and generations yet unborn shall 
call you blessed. 



Through inadvertence, the valuable article 
upon '•Churches and Ministers in Windham 
County, Ct," was printed without the author's 
name. It was prepared by Rev. Robert C. 
Learned, of Berlin, Ct., and will be continued. 



1859.] 



American Congregationdl Utnon, 



821 



AMERICAN CONGREGATIONAL UNION. 



Thx Sixth AnnlTemry was held In the New Broad- 
way Tah«miiele, New Tork, on Tuemlfty evening, 
May 10. 1859. 

Th<> Prpsidentf Rev. Lbonakd Bacon. D. D., was in 
the Ctiair, and opened the nieftlng with prayer. 

Th« following Annual Report of the Trasteea waa 
read: — 

The Trustees of the American Congre- 
gational Union, herewith present their 
Sixth Annual Report. 

The closing, like the past, has been 
essentially a year of preparatory work ; 
consequently our necessary expenses bear 
still too large a proportion to our receipts. 
In this respect, however, our experience 
is not different from that of other benevo- 
lent organizations which have been com- 
pelled to work their way into public 
favor. That ours will ere long receive 
the confidence and support its intrinsic 
importance demands, there is every rea- 
son to believe. But too many yet stand 
aloof, merely looking on, affording us good 
wishes in.stead of generous gifts ; waiting 
to see the result of an experiment, which 
indeed would be no experiment, wete 
there that co-operation on all hands, for 
the withholding of which, there does not 
seem to be a sufficient excuse. Hence 
the field, which denominational affilia- 
tions assign to us, is not ripe unto the har- 
vest There are prejudices yet to be 
overcome, — some ignorance of the wants 
of our own brotherhood to be enlighten- 
ed, — and many do not comprehend the 
fact that ours is a most needy, as well as 
promising missionary work. And it has 
been somewhat difficult to secure a place 
and a response among so many claimants 
of the charities of our churches, for a new 
object, especially during such financial 
embarrassments as the last eighteen 
months have witnessed. Still the past 
has been a year of decided, and on the 
whole, gratifying progress. Our Secre- 
tary has found many more pulpits open 

TOL. X. 41 



to his appeals, and more contributions 
have been pledged and received, inde- 
pendent of his labors, than hitherto. 
And there have been more kindly sympa- 
thies expressed, and assurances of remem- 
brance before our common Father's 
throne, from those who could only do thus 
much, than ever before ; and these have 
cheered us not a little in our just-begun 
work. 

Moreover, this year, for the first time 
in our brief history, have individuals as- 
sumed the responsibility of securing the 
erection, and paying the last bills upon a 
house of worship, each one ranging in 
amount from one hundred to three hun- 
dred dollars. More than twelve men 
have already assumed, and some have 
discharged this pleasing responsibility ; 
and in no way is it apparent how, with so 
little money, so much good can be done, 
so quickly, to so many, for so long a time. 
Has not the Saviour yet many more stev- 
ards who will imitate an example so woi> 
thy of imitation V Let a hundred be 
found to say, each, as one recently said — 
*' Hold me responsible for one house of 
worship for some feeble, but promising 
Congreffational Church," — "and the wil- 
<]erness and solitary place shall be glad 
for them, and the desert shall rejoice and 
blossom as the rose." 

Our treasury has been overdrawn near- 
ly the entire year. As our appropriations 
are usually much in advance of the 
completion of the houses to which they 
arc devoted, our liabilities may be much 
greater than our actual and present re- 
ceipts with comparative safety. But there 
is a point in this direction beyond which 
it is unsafe to go. Up to that point we 
have been compelled to linger. Needy 
churches by scores have been dissuaded 
from applying for aid, and many asking 
have been deferred until their hope bfiu? 



S22 



American CongregcAimai Vmon. 



[JULF^ 



died out ; and at times the question has 
been asked with a solicitude not easily 
described, " will this church-building en- 
terprise be sustained ? " 

On the 27th of March last that question 
was, at least in part, answered. An ap- 
peal was made by our Secretary, to the 
Church of the Puritans, in this city, under 
the disadvantage of having been imme- 
diately preceded by other and significant 
calls for pecuniary aid, which had been 
readily afforded ; but to our appeal there 
was a response, so spontaneous, so unex- 
pectedly bountiful and free, that it has 
marked an era in our history. It was a 
Grod-send indeed. Our star of hope arose 
at once above the horizon. A contribu- 
tion more than six times as large as we 
had ever received from any church in one 
year, was pledged before night. It brou;:ht 
up our receipts at one bound to a living 
and moving figure. And it has opened 
the way to other treasures never before 
accessible to us, and is provoking, and will 
provoke both to love and good works in 
various directions. All thanks to the pas- 
tor and men who came so cheerfully and 
nobly to our help in this extremity. There 
are now some pleasing assurances that oth- 
er churches, of greater and less resources, 
will place this object upon their calendar, 
and help this cause in its turn. May God 
in infinite mercy incline them to do so ! 

There were fourteen hundred and 
ninety-six dollars and eighty- five cents 
in our treasury at the commencement of 
the closing year, all of which, and much 
more, had been appropriated. During the 
year there has been ten thousand six hun- 
dred and nineteen dollars and ninetv-two 
cents collected, which, added to the 
amount on hand, has made our available 
resources twelve thousand one hundred 
and sixteen dollars and seventy-seven 
cents. Of this amount, two thousand four 
hundred and eighty dollars, have been paid 
to nine churches, to complete and pay the 
last bills on their houses of worshi[>. And 
appropriations have been made to twenty 
other churches, which are now in a pro- 
ceis of erection. 



There is an appropriated balance on 
hand of four thousand nine hundred and 
thirteen dollars and twenty-eight cents — 
falling five hundred and eighty-six dollars 
and seventy-two cents below the sum al- 
ready pledged. But on the other hand 
there is about two thousand dollars guar- 
anteed by responsible men for the erec- 
tion of houses of worship, which will 
be paid as soon as the buildings are 
completed to which the appropriations 
have been made. There are, moreover, 
fourteen hundred and two Year Books on 
sale at more than thirty places, from which 
returns have not yet been made ; and we 
have on hand five hundred copies of the 
present volume, and ninety unbroken sets 
of the six volumes published. The latter 
can not fail to be valuable in every Theo- 
logical and Ecclesiastical Library for all 
time, as they embrace the only reliable 
history of our denominational statistics and 
ministerial necrology during that period. 
And their speedy sale would be a mate- 
rial help to our funds. We have also 
about two hundred dollars still due for 
advertisements, or invested in maps and 
bx)ks in payment for the same. 

A proposition was received in February 
la-^t, from the editors and proprietors of 
the " Congregational Quarterly" to make 
^ome arranuement by which our Chureh 
building, and their denominational pub- 
lishing and Library j)lans might be mutu- 
ally promoted. After full and repeated 
interchange of views, a connection was 
formed, upon a firm and gratifying basis, 
bv which, henceforth, the Congregational 
Quarterly becomes virtually and suffi- 
cientlv the orjjan of the Librarv Associa- 
tion, and the American Conjjreirational 
Union ; and is published under the sanc- 
tion of both, and both sustain the same 
relations to it. The Secretary of each is 
an editor, associated with the Reverends 
Henry M. Dexter of Boston, and A. II. 
t^uint 01 Jamaica Plain, neither or<»cini- 
zation being responsible for either its 
editorial matter, or its pecuniary liabili- 
ties, though reserving the right to pur- 



1859.] American Congregational Union. 323 

chase a part, or the whole, upon conditions In regard to this charch-bailding work 
mutually satisfactory. It is confidently — ^now so successfully and systematically 
believed that this arrangement will meet prosecuted by all other leading evangeli- 
the general approbation of our denomina- cal denominations, with us it is but just 
tion, and by it a better periodical and a fairly inaugurated ; yet it promises a use- 
much wider circulation will be secured, fulness second to no other labor of Chris- 
and a great denominational want will be tian benevolence. Every church aided 
met. It is time our past history, so far as has had its congregation increased, some 
it can be, should be recalled and written fifly,' some seventy-five, and some more 
out, — our current history jotted down, — than one hundred fold ; and every other 
our principles and polity set forth in per- means of grace in like proportion increas- 
manent form, — and our statistics so ar- ed. A number of churches have become 
ranged and recorded that our progress immediately self-sustaining, thus saving to 
may be noted and known. This Quar- the Missionary Society annually as much 
terly is adapted to, and intended for these as we have appropriated to secure the 
important purposes. And as it enters a erection of their sanctuary. So that if 
field unoccupied, it becon^s the rival of ours is not strictly and truly home mis- 
no contemporary. As it is not the sionary work, it is not easy to find such 
champion of any theological party, it work. One pastor writes, "your Soci- 
will carry with it nothing to provoke ety is the right arm of the Home Mission- 
the ire, or excite the prejudices of ary Society;" another, *^ yours is supple- 
any of our scattered brotherhood, east, mental to that ; " another, " neither is 
west, north or south. The Year Book, complete without the other." Our work 
in name and form, will be suspend- lingers only because we have not the 
ed. The first number of the Quarterly means at conmiand to carry it forward on 
will, each year, contain the catalogue of a scale at all commensurate with its de- 
oar ministry, with the post office address, mands. Hitherto we have not dared to 
and the time and place of the graduation intimate to the destitute that we were 
of each; — and the statistics of our ready to consider their claims; we have 
churches will be more carefully collated been compelled to t/iscourage rather than 
and arranged for publication than ever encourage applications. One pastor has 
before. The four numbers, each year, written lately, saying that there were five 
will furnish a volume of more than 400 churches in his association alone, which 
pages, with four fine steel engravings of were waiting for an intimation that an 
some of our distinguished dead, — with application would be successful. An 
wood cuts of churches, &c., altogether agent of the Home Missionary Society 
well worth the single dollar at which it is wants us to build fifty houses of worship 
offered. We can not too cordially com- at once on his field, and these will not 
mend this periodical to the patronage of supply the present destitution of Congre- 
all who value the church polity, and prin- gational churches there. Others ask, 
ciples of our Puritan Fathers. " can we encourage our struggling church- 
Our Year Book has been hitherto sent es to look to you for help,— or must they 
to our Life and Annual Members gratui- go over to another denomination to secure 
tously. It was pledged to such as long as houses of worship ? " Three times the 
it should be published. We shall send amount at our command for this year, 
the next number of the present volume of could be most usefully disbursed every 
the Quarterly to all such, who may not year, at scarcely any increased expendi- 
be known as subscribers to that work ; ture ; and this for how long a time to 
thereafter^ we are sure they will not ex- come no one can foretell ; — thus bringing 
pect OS to be at this expense. the means of life and progress, and self- 



American Congregational Utdon. 



324 



Bopport every year, to more than half a 
hundred now Tueble churrlies,— thus se- 
cnring centres of religious power and 
permanGney where now all is uncertainty 
u well a* imbecilily. at the beat; — and 
betides all this we should do much olb- 
er collateral, and much needed rell- 
gioiu work, which waits, and will wail 
our action. Can we hnve tli« funds ? 
Ton who hear and read Ihi-Be our state- 
ments will answer this inquiry — and if 
affirmaiivcly, "e shall be able to give an 
aecouDt of our labors at our next Anni- 
versary, as much more imtisfsctory to our- 
selves, and gratifying to you, as it will be 
more pleasing to thu Great Hcail of the 
Church, who commands, — ■' I.«l the house 
of the Ijord be builrled in liis place," 
In behalf of the Tru.-lL.-i's 

I. P. LANliWliTFlV. 



[Jolt, 



10 sD-uo n 



MASS AGO DSKTTS. 

nH, 8.wl.tlB.ln WlDipdra OonntJ.' 
liulwlnfl. »!»!• k.1 Hinw, tl 

itolngl^ gBi.iiDir;, AnJonr. i 

Si.->«l«»,M.rblolji«l, 1 

ilun Rmi(>ilc*1 cnnrch.Sa'llqHj, ] 



<l Sasrh " Itndlnc, 



a iJtJr In >VgH C»n> 



(b« baD>ilii:UoD by the 



ud ltnc«n,li. tl .WfUiiU^d Iho Cliair, aad opvin'il 
tha mntlDg with prnjtr- Tbn lint bvlnw w»f 
tba Kc^prtore uid tdopiion of tba AddiuI Hdport at 

On motiaD of ReT J, t. Thnmpnm. D D.. the 



som 
I., us 00 
>. s&oo 



( Bunani, PlilJIipiuia. 



Hrr, O'li I/nnbitd. SnuthflelJ 



iT. Geo. K. Aduon, D. D.. Braniwlc 
Colli. Church, W.LI.. 
" Jlrewer Tillage, 



Eut ttSnj, % (0 

Uimtlth VlUi((, B 00 



Con,. Chn, 








l^OO 




% 60 




Zi6 63 




saw 




S8-& 




40 00 


>.>K^aii8 




^J 


'a»oo 








18 UO^lSl S3 








MHO 




3686 



1869.] 



325 



^"Ikn JtcMliM.ik 
D«. Chu. Baiiwllrt. "'■»! 
lUT.'r. T.lbniD, ScnUBd, 



IndlTlJiiiiL of L« U( 
Otni. ChDcrb, Glut 



II. 1« 7S 

;; no 
H.Km 

aa.3fioa 

HI. BOO 
1 60 
10 <» 
BOO 

, BOO 
21 H 

. WW 
700 
80 00 

loncn 
10 m 

4UO0 
bOO 

6 00 

I DO 
12 17 
lUOO 

6uO0 
SH S3 



Iil'riu uf Ysli TUto. Som., Niw 
Ufidiulignd Obb(. CbDich, Bock- 



PByNSYLVi.MIA. 



CANADA WKaT. 



iriscoNaiH. 

.srch, MllnukH. 
h, Be loll, 
un:<i,0.bkoab. 



SiQ0-14S3(a INDIA? 



IndWIdivila Id 
Aouiui )l>nb.n. 



RUOUE ISLAND. 



1 Cu-.iiKf- ••■"-< i.'i'URh, Htntk, 






IJOD- 








Yort. 


63 64 


laiU U"Dg, Church, Draokljn, 


64 eo 


l<.»nA.,DU.(;ai.Kll,BlOOkl,D.(l 






"mas 




960 


lunhoftlul'U«niiu,Un«liljn, 






800 ZT 


tC«.g.UliuiUi, Alt*ny. 


liiSlO 




247 M 


iw SorUDd L'bunn, BiaHUjn, 


65 49 


'■•.A>ti>,N»rVi>rt^ 






£6 00 



Am. Cent, Vjwiiiii 



29 8a-T0S 80 



1. CW*uu. Tmu. 



19 68 

81 26-114 a 



326 



American Congregaivmal Union. 



[July, 



u 
1( 



4( 

a 



(( 
w 
u 
II 
ti 
It 
u 



tt 



IC 



20 
8 



800 



By BiB*t paid dnwfog and enrnrliif 
ehareh riew* mod plana 
Jbr Y«'ar Rnok. 
PriniiDit Ymt Book, 1859, 
'• Dr. Kitchvll'a Ad 
dfvaa, 
prinring letter heada, 
Unding Tt^r Book, 1859, 
By appmprfattona paid— 
ToCoDg. Charch at Ogien. Kanaaa, 

** RiTer Kaliw, WK, 800 
»» DotrnteTille, <:al., 500 
" Dm Moines, town, 200 
" ManhaUao.Kaii.,5nO 
'' Menaaha, Wi*., 250 
*' LeRavsTille, Pa., 250 
** W.. Cbarleetown, 

Vennnnt, 100 

" Sterling and Tol- 
town, Cr , 80 

By am^ paid <br rorera for sending life 
lCcmbcr*B Cerdflcatea, 



it 

u 
u 
tt 
tt 
It 
It 

tt 



(« 

u 
u 
u 
tt 
ti 
tt 

II 



94 00 
440 87 

00 

50 — 28 60 
65 04 

00 
00 
00 
00 
00 
• 
00 • 

00 

00-2480 00 

1 00 

87/.03 49 
4918 28 

S12,116 77 

We hereby certify that we bare tbia day examined 
the general balance of the American Congregational 
Union for the year ending on Kcond day of May 
eighteen hondred and fifcy-nine, sobmitted by N. A. 
Calkins, Esq., Treaaurer, and have al^o examined and 
eompanrd the Touchers, relatiTe to its i'ems, and 
have found his account and the balance correct, 
showing the balance of cash on hand to be four tbou- 
■and nine hundred and thirteen dollars and twenty- 
sight cents. 



By balance on hand, 



Chauxcit W. Moori, ) a^a:*^. 
WiLLUM Allek, J ^^tun$. 



On motion of Rer. Dr. Thompaon it was 

Resolved^ That the thanks of the American Con- 
gregational Union be exprvSFed to Rer. Theodore D. 
Woolsey, D.D., President of Tale College, for his Tal- 
nable discourse, delivered at the annirersary on 
Tuesday last, and thut a copy of the same be requeot- 
ed for pubIic«tion, under the direction of the Trus- 
tees. 



The fbllowing persons were nominated and elected 

OFFICERS FOR 1869-60. 
President. 
Rer. LEONARD BACON, D.D., of New Haven, Ct. 



Ffcc PrttidnU*. 
Hon. BE4DP0ED R. Wood, Albany, N. T. 

Rer. OxoKot Shspakd, D.D., Bangor, Me. 

Rev. M.iKK HoPKiKB, D.D., Wllliamstown, Ms. 

Hon. ExoET Wasaainur, Cambridge, TAm. 

Key. Charles Walexe, D.D., Pittaford, Tt. 

Hon. AEiSTARcavs Champiov, Rochester, N. T. 

Rev. H. D. KrrcaxL, D.D., Detroit, Miich. 

Rev. T. M. Post, D D., St. Umis, Mo. 

Rev. BowAEDS A. Paek, D D., Andovcr, Ms. 

Rev. 0. E. Dagoeit, D D., CanandaigOE, N. T. 

D. F. R0BI58OX, Biq. , Hartford, Ct. 

Rev. WiLUAM Pattox, D.D., New York. 

Rev. JoXATHAiv LxAViTT, D.D.*, Provldenre, R. L 

Rev. J. M. Stuetkyart, D.D., Jaekaoorille, HI. 

Rev. J. H. LufSLKT, D D., Greenwich, Ct. 

Rev. H. M. SroEKS, Cincinnati, 0. 

Rev. B. P. Sro5S, D.D., Concord, N. II. 

S. B GooEixa, E!<q., Terre Haute, Ind. 

Rev. T. WicEKS, Marietta, 0. 

Rev. JiTLius A. RxKD, Davenport, lo. 

Hon. WiLUAM T. EusTUj Boston, Ms. 

Hon. W. A. BucEiROHiUi, Norwich, Ct. 

TrusUt*. 
Rev. Joseph P. Thompson, D.D., Rev. WlUiam L 

Budington. Rev. Kufus W. CUrk, Rer. Isaac P. 

Langworthy, Rev. Wiliitm R. Tompkins, William C. 

Oilman, Cbauncey W. Moore, William Allen, Henry 

C. Bowen, George Walker, Adon Smith, Robert D- 

Benedict, Esq., Setb B. Hunr^ Alfred S. Barnes, S. 

Nelson Davi«, William O. West, Walter T. Hatch, 

Norman A. Calkins, Andrew Fitagerald, Jamea W. 

Elwell, Cliarles Powers. 

Corresponding Serretary. 
Iter. Isaac P. Lanowoetht. 

Record intf Secretary and TVttuurer. 
N. A Caleikb. 

Rooms, Nos. 7 and 9 Appleton-s Building, 848 
Broadway, New York. 



After the election of officers 
adjourned. 



the meeting was 



The Anniversary Collation of the Union was held 
at the City AMembly Rooms, 448 Broadway, at 7 
o'clock, P. M., Thursday, May 13. The Rev. Henry 
Ward Beecher presided. Brief addresses were made 
by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Rev. I. P. Lang- 
worthy, Rev. Samuel Wolcott, Rev. U. B. Anderson, 
Rev. Henry M. Scudder, and Prof. Thacher, of Tale 
College. 



1859,] 



Chngregalumal Library Association. 



327 



CONGREGATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. 



BUSINESS MKKTINO. 

- Agreeably to published notice, the An- 
nual Meeting of the Congregational 
Library Association was held at the 
Library Hall, Chauncy Street, Boston, on 
Tuesday, the 24th day of May, 1859, at 
12 o'clock, M., the President, Rev. Wm. 
T. D wight, D.D., in the Chair. 

Prayer was offered by Rev. Joseph P. 
Thompson, D.D., of New York. 

The Records of the last Annual Afeet- 
ing were read by the Recording Secretary. 

The Sixth Annual Report of the Direc- 
tors was read by the Recording Secretary, 
who was also instructed, by vote, to pro- 
cure its publication in the " Congrega- 
tional Quarterly," if agreeable to the 
editors ; and on such terras as might be 
satisfactory to him and them. 

A full Report of the Treasurer was 
presented, and placed on file, — an abstract 
of which, with the auditor's certificate, 
were read and ordered to be printed with 
that of the Directors. [See p. 330]. 

A special Report was also made of a 
slight informality discovered in the pro- 
cess of organizing under the Charter of 
April 12, 1854, and of a '* Resolve con- 
firming the Records and Doings " of the 
Association since that date, which the 
Directors had obtained from the Legisla- 
ture at its last session. The Resolve was 
read, and approved, and ordered to be 
embodied in the Minutes. 

The ofl[icers for the ensuing year were 
then chosen, [see p. 332,] and the Associa- 
tion adjourned to meet in Central Church 
at Z\ oV-lock, P. M., to attend the public 
exercises in connection with the 

ANNIVERSARY ADDRESS. 

At the appointed hour, the President 
called on Rev. John AVaddixgton, 
from England, to offer prayer; which 
was followed bv a brief statement of the 
AMOciation's doings the past year, from the 



Corresponding Secretary, and a hymn of 
praise from the whole congregation. Rev. 
John Todd, D.D.,ofPi»tsfield, was then 
introduced, who delivered an able Ad- 
dress, which held the attention of a full 
house till a late hour. 

At an adjourned meeting, held on Fri- 
day morning, Hon. Kmory WasbburN, 
of Cambridge, was chosen to deliver the 
next annual Address, and Hon. W. W. 
Ellsworth, of Hartford, his substitute. 

SIXTH ANNUAL REPORT. 

In several respects the Congregational 
Library Association has made very grati- 
fying progress the past year. 

It has received an accession of 680 new 
members. The whole number now con- 
nected with the Association is about 2,300. 
These, though widely scattered, are joined 
together, nor only by religious affinities, 
but also, to a great extent, by kindred 
ties, — a two-fold bond of brotherhood, 
suited alike to promote their denomina- 
tional efficiency and their mutual affec- 
tion. This fraternizing, cooperative in- 
fluence, which the founders foresaw would 
be likely to result from an Association 
formed on the basis of a common faith 
and a common ancestrv, was one of the 
first objects of their desire. And imagi- 
nation, gathering omens fi*om the past 
year, looks forward to a time, not distant, 
when those early aspirations will be real- 
ized; when the entire Congregational 
familv on this continent — at least such as 
have a New England origin — will feel 
the power of this influence, by being 
brought into membership with this body. 

The additions to the Library and Read- 
inn Room have also been larger than 
usual ; — amounting to 876 bound volumes ; 
1,980 pamphlets; 125 manuscript docu- 
ments ; and 1 9 current periodicals. These 
are all donations or deposits. Among 
them is a complete set of the publicationi 



328 



CmgrfffoHondl Lihrarff As9oeiatton. 



[JtTtY, 



of the Congregational Union of England 
and Wales, elegantly bound, and the 
cover of each volume on the outside bear- 
ing the inscription, " Presented by the 
Congregational Union of England and 
Wales to the Congregational Library, Bos- 
tony United States" — a pleasing and val- 
uable testimony of the appreciation attach- 
ed to this enterprise by our brethren over 
the water. The Library Hall «t present 
contains 6,627 bound volumes; 16,880 
pamphlets; 925 manuscripts; and 43 peri- 
odicals, of which 4 are quarterlies, 18 
monthlies, and 21 weeklies or semi-week- 
lies. None of these collections have cost 
the Association a penny,except for freights 
and postage. They have come chiefly 
from the 2,300 members scattered over 
the land; and they possess a valu«* far 
above the S2,300 which those members 
paid as an entrance fee. In this view it 
will be seen that the dollar which makes 
one a member for life, and invests him 
with a permanent owner:?hip, is not so 
slight a consideration as would s<'em at 
first thought ; but is to be reganle*! rather 
as the most effectual, if not the only feasi- 
ble way of drawing forth tliose " spoils of 
time " which it is a leading object of the 
Asso<'iation to rescue from lonely attics 
and dark closets where they are moulder- 
ing to (Iu^it, or awaiting the flames. 

Another indication of progress is found 
in the additional rents received for ac- 
commodations furnished in the Congrega- 
tional Buildin<!;. Besides the rooms taken 
up for our own use — estimated at $700 
per annum — five other roouis are let to 
seven difl[*erent societies, paying, in the 
aggregate, $1,040. Had it comported 
wiih the design of the Association, in pur- 
chasing the estate, to admit respectable 
tenants of any class, every room could 
have been let, and the aggregate of rents 
would have been more than double what 
it now is. The tide of business flowing in 
a broader and deeper current daily to- 
wards this locality, the demand for rooms 
can never be less, and will probably be 
greater. 



But the most considerable step towards 
the attiinment of the objects of this Asso- 
ciation the past year, is the establishment 
of the Congregational Quarterly. 
The idea of a publicatu>n of some kind, in 
connection with the Institution, is coeval 
with its existence, and is recognized in 
several annual Reports as essential to the 
full development of its aims. A year ago 
last January the " Prospectus " of such a 
periodical was presented to the Directors, 
and discussed, and unanimously approved. 
But owing to the financial crisis then ap- 
proaching, it was deemed unwise to start 
the enterprise at that time. A committee, 
however, was chosen, with instructions to 
watch the indications of Provi<lence, and 
report the first favoring tokens. It was 
full nine months before the business of the 
country had suflieiently revived to war- 
rant the undertaking ; and even then the 
state of our treasury rendered it extreme- 
ly imprudent for the Association to as- 
sume any additional liabilities. 

At this juncture, and before the Direc- 
tors had come to any result, they learned 
that certain parties had projected a plan 
for publishing a periodical of the nature 
contemplated, and were willing to connect 
it with the Library Association on condi- 
tions mutually acceptable ; and the first 
number was issued in Januarj'. These 
conditions, stated in the briefest terms, 
are ; — that the Quarterly be published in 
the Congregational Building without 
charge for rent, and under the sanction, 
but not under the control, of the Congre- 
gational Library Association ; — that the 
publishers receive the entire profit, should 
any accrue, for the first three years; — 
that if the Association at the end of that 
time, or at any time after, choose to as- 
sume the ownership and control of the 
Qurirlerly, they may do so by paying its 
value as appraised by disinterested refer- 
ees, mutually chosen, with the understand- 
ing that the share held by their Secretary, 
one of the publishers and editors, shall 
revert to the Association without purchase, 
when the three years expire. Uadcr 



1859.] 



Congregational Library Assmatwn. 



829 



these auspices, and with not a subscriber 
pledged, at) edition of 3,000 was printed, 
whii-h from present indications, will be all 
taken up, and more will be wanted. It 
was not expected, of course, thnt a peri- 
odical like this, of four or five hundred 
pages, offered at one dollar per annum, 
would immediately remunerate the pub- 
lishers. But they hope, through the favor 
of the public, to avoid any absolute loss 
of money ; and that, with a persistent 
effort on their part, the Congregational 
Quarterly will at length become a pr<>- 
ductive property. 

Before the se<*ond number was i.ssuod, 
the American Congregational Union at 
New York, hy the consent of all parties, 
was admitted into co-partnership on equal 
terms with this Associ ition, — and their 
Secretary was added to the publishing and 
editorial corps. This was done with the 
express un<lerstaiiding that the Year Book, 
hitherto published by that body, be hence- 
forth di.^ontinued, and the Quarterly 
hereafter be the repository of our ecclesi- 
astical stiitistics; and that no change be 
made in the place or the terms ot its pub- 
lication. This movement is evidently des- 
tined to exert an important inl]iien«-e, not 
only in extending the circulation of the 
periodical, but also in conibinin;i the mor- 
al forces of the denomination. In no other 
way was it possible for this Association 
and the publishers of the Quarterly to 
have done what, in all coming time, will 
so effectually serve *' to keep the unify of 
the spirit in the bond of peace,*' among 
the entire Congregitional family in our 
land. Through the pages of this perio<li- 
cal — the organ of no .school in theology or 
morals, and the antagonist of none — the 
historical n\emorials of our Puritan fa- 
thers, their principles and practices, their 
''doctrine, manner of life, purpose, faith," 
will be made known to multitudes of their 
descendant's, who, though dwelling on op- 
posite sides of the continent, will, by this 
means, be held in sympathy with each 
other, and prepared to act in concert. 
An object so identical with the design of 

VOL. Z. 43 



the Congregationril Library Association 
will be hailed with joy by every member, 
who will also, it is hoped, enroll his name 
as an annual subscriber. 

The Directors regret their inability to 
report equal progress in the financial de- 
partment. A debt of $16,000 still re- 
mains on the Building, contrary to our 
expectations at the last Anniversary. It 
was presumed that the pastors, who had 
not already done it, would bring the sub- 
jc<*t before their people ; and that the peo- 
ple would make that '^one coUectioq," 
wiiich, without a formal pledge, yet by a 
g'-neral underst»nding, each (!ongregation 
is expected to furnish, in aid of this build- 
ing fund. But only thirty -four rfiich col- 
lections have been received during the 
year, amounting in all to $1,146 11. This, 
added to what has been obtained from 
individual donors and otlier sources, makes 
the totd receipts a fraction short of $5,000. 
Had only half the Congregational church- 
es in New England responded as these 
thirtv-four have, the debt would have 
been extinguished ; or had those benevo- 
lent friends who are intending to enroll 
their names on the list of individual do- 
nors, been pleased to do so the past year, 
the sache result would have ensued, and 
the Institution would now rest on a self- 
sustaining basis. 

The Directors cannot ascribe this delay 
to indiflf'erence. Even from quarters 
where earnest appeals have failed to bring 
funds, they have brouiijht expressions of 
deep interest in the undertaking an<l th? 
promise of help at some future day when 
other more pressing necessilies have been 
relieved. And here; we apprehend, the 
main difTiculty lies. The embarrassments 
into which so many long-cherished objects 
of benevolence have been thrown by the 
late financial «lisasfers, are unquestionably 
the cause of nejxlectin^ this newer and 
less known enterprise, whiLdi, it is has:ily 
judged, can bi? postponed without much 
peril. Thus the Congregational Library 
Association is restrained from its purpose, 
like a strong man fettered just as he is 



380 



Ctmgregaiiaml Uhrary Auodation. 



[JULT, 



entering upon a race ; and thus, if the re- 
straint continue, the spirit of discourage- 
ment and distrust thereby engendered, will 
grow at length into a more fatal hindrance 
to success than even the want of funds. 

But it is not to be supposed that these 
delays are to last. There are many signs 
of a change. Tlie embarrassments of 
other benevolent societies are getting re- 
lieved. The claims of this are becoming 
better understood. The circulation of the 
Congregational Quarterly is awakening a 
new interest in its behalf, by illustrating 
its objects and realizing its aims. The 
partnership into which the Congregational 
Union 2^ New York has been drawn with 
ns in support of this periodical involves a 
mutual co-operation in respect to other 
interests, — especially this of paying for 
our Building. In view of these and simi- 
lar facts which to the eye of faith appear 
liki' signals of divine. Providence held out 



to cheer ns on, we cannot doubt that the 
coming year will show a more prompt and 
liberal effort than the past But the snr- 
est ground of hopeful and vigorous action 
is found in the results already achieved, 
especially when viewed in connection with 
the difficulties that have beset our path. 
The breadth of our membeiship and the 
moral power wrapped up therein ; the 
number and character and value of oar 
collections, together with the practical 
uses they already answer ; the possession 
of such a building as we now own, and the 
realization which it begins to give us of a 
Congregational Home — thes« great 
results, greater than the most -sanguine 
could have looked for in so short a time — 
while they challenge our gratitude for the 
past, inspire us with confidence in the fu- 
ture. ^ 

In behalf of the Directors, 

J. S. CLARK, Cor. Sec. 



Dk. 



ABSTRACrr OF THE TREASURER'S REPORT. 

Tfu Congregational Library Association ^ in account with James P. MKLUnoB, Treaxwer. 



Cm. 



To cmhIi paid mortgage iioie for TruKtiwii of 





Sears Esrnt**, 


13,000 00 


• * 


interest on anaw, 


4C8 67 


i ■ 


'' dae Uev. J. B. Felt, 


18 00 


• • 


note in faTorof A. Ilardy, 


2.877 85 


• • 


Interest on same, 


210 90 


• , 


on accouDt, note in fayor of A. 






Kingman, 


1,750 00 


• 


fire insurance, 


98 09 


• 


nerTlcc!* of Secretary. Librarian, 


• 




and Financial Agent, 


1.800 00 


•t 


J. C. Sharp, for services, 


24 00 


• t 


hire of boy, care of building, &c., 


106 00 


•k 


ReT. J. S. Clark, for sundry bills 






paid by him, 


87 88 


• k 


traTelling expenses. 


86 80 


K 


for furniture and repairs. 


23 11 


41 


F. A. Benson, bill of coal, 


43 00 


k« 


city tax on Eotate in ChHumy 






Street, 


172 00 


It 


N. I. Bowditcb, eXHmiiiing tiMe, 


75 00 


it 


Healey & Burbank, drafting deed 






to city, 


200 


tt 


printing last Annual Report, 


72 20 


%i 


u$e of Central Church for Anni- 






versary meeting. 


15 00 


«• 


bal. to Or. new ncc*t.. 


37 05 




>0,961 50 


UOSTON, 


May 21, 1859. 


E. and 


Boston. 


May 21, 1859. This abstrarc of the Treaauz 



By balance, previous account, 



K 



it 



am't of donations from individuals. 



it n 



(« 



74 78 
2.250 00 
1,146 11 
927 00 
6 16 



Cong^regational collections, 
cash recM for renta, 
" " " fixtures sold, 
lotioed by Geo. S. Dexter, tnr which 
the Treasurer's note was given, 
payable on demand with int'st, 16,000 00 
rec'd for Life uieuiWrships, 67 00 

" of City of Boston, for land ta- 
ken to widen Chaunrv Street, 600 00 



920,9^ 60 
By balance above account, (87 OS 

JABiSS P. MKLLBDaiS, JVeaswrer. 

iport la corrMi. ALPUKUS HARDT, AuMlm. 




(kfngregjoiicmdl Ubrary Assoeiaiion. 



931 



CONGREGATIONAL BUILDING FUND. 

The following subscriptions, donations and 
collections have been received (excepting a 
few hundred dollars subscribed, but not yet 
paid) for the purchase of the Association's 
building on Chauncy Street, Boston. Each 
contributor of Hp^ has been enrolled an hon- 
orary Life Director, unless he has designated 
some one else. If it appears that Massachu- 
setts and Rhode Island are the chief contri- 
butors thus far, it is not because the sons and 
daughters of the Pilgrims in these two little 
States have a more direct personal or local 
interest in the matter, than their brothers and 
sisters elsewhere. As a means of commemo- 
rating the fathers of New England, and of 
keeping alive their principles, and of drawing 
the bonds of brotherhood more closely around 
their descendants, this enterprise appeals with 
equal force to all the members of the great 
family, wherever dispersed. 

MAINE. 
Portland, W. T. Dwight, 50 00 

MASSACHUSETTS. 

Amherst, E. S. Snell, 6 ; L. Sweetser, 6, 10 00 

Aodover, ThH>l. Sttui., to eons. Prof. A. 
Pn«lpii, D.D. Life Director, 
*' So. Parish. John Aiken, Exq., 
*' Billnru Vale, Mrs. Mary P. Urvene, 6 ,* 
Boston, OM Sourh Oh., 0. Stoddard, 

" P<trk Sr., E. Liiiiifion, T. Bare he Her, and 
J. Kitch, eich 100 ; Wm. T. EuHtb, &0 ; 
8. K. Whipple and K. Cnc.er, eM:h*25; 
other Indlviiluiils 63.04, 
£8i>ez Sc. Ch., A. Kiogman, 1000 ; J. 
Tiippao, 500 ; J. B. Felt, 200 : C. Scud- 
dei, A. vvilklnsoD, HOd O. W. Thayer, 
each 100 ; N. Adams, 50, 2,060 00 

Bo«doin St. Ch., T. K. Marvin, 100, to 
coos. Kev. L. F. Dimmick, D.D., of 
Newbar> port, and W. T. K. Marvin, of 
Boston, L.Directom ; Q. Puoehard, 60 ; 
L. Norrrom and T. K. Marvin, 25, to 
cons. Rev. E. Johnson L. D., 175 00 

Salem St Ch , F. Snow, 100 ; O. S. 
Low, 60 ; D. Poki&r, 25 ; B. Whitte- 
more, 25, 200 00 

Pine St. Ch., H. M. Dexter, 200 ; J. D. 
Kent, 25, 225 00 

Central Cb.,W. Ropes and A. Hardy, 
each 500; others 14,58, 1,014 58 

Mt. Vernon Ch., J. A. Palmer and E. S. 
Tubey, each 500 ; E. N. Kirk, 200 ; 0. 
W. Cr«kec and S. D Wamrn, each 
100 ; D. T. Coir, 50 ; S. Bliss, A. Uo- 
bart, J. W.Kimball and 0. P. Den- 
n««> , each 26 ; others 12,50. 1,562 50 

*' ShawmuiCh.F. Jones, 800; C.Smith, 

25, 325 00 

Not incloded in the above, U- Lee, Jr., 
100; U. B. liooker, 75; S. II. Kiadel 
aud P. Fii^k, 50 each ; A Fritu^t 25, 800 00 
Braintree, First Ch., 47 ; fcouth Ch., 14,84 ; 

Union Ch., 11,58, 78 42 

Brlghtun, T. 0. Kice, 25 : others, 49, 74 UO 

Bruokiioe, J. W. Tliurnton t<> cuntf. Kev. J. B. 
Thornton, of St. Juliu, L. D., aud C. B. 
lMua,eacu25, 50 00 

Cambridge, Shepard Soc., 0. 0. Hubbard, 
SOU; E. Whitman, 100 ; Z. Uosuier, 50 ; 
A. Builaid, 25, 675 00 

Cambridgeport, J. W^ Gates, 40 ; E. M. I>un- 

bar and C. H. Warren, eacn 25, 90 00 

Gtflkle, coi. ia JCvanfeliMl Ch., 6 00 



25 00 

10 00 

40 00 

250 00 



453 04 



I. 



i( 



(t 



it 



(« 



Charlestown, Winthrop Ch.. W. Carlton, 

200 ; E. P. MackinHra, 100 ; G. Hyde, 26, 826 00 
Chelsea, WinuisimmetCh.. I.F. Langwurrby, 
J. Campbell and J. Taylor, each 26; 
others, fe, 100 00 

Dorchester, 2d Ch., N. Carruth, 260 ; J. H. 
Meant* and Mr«. M. Brown, each 100 ; 
Mi^. N. Oliver and Mrs. B. Oliver, ea«h 
50; J. Martins, T. D. Quincy and J. 
Tuiker, each 25 ; others 50, 676 00 

Kajithampton, S. Williston, 100 00 

EdSi?x, coi. in Cong. Ch. to eons. Rev. J. M. 

B'icon, a L. D., 27 60 

Fairhaven, of which 29 is fh>m Ladies, to 

cons. Rev. J. Wlllard a L. D., 60 00 

Fall River, Central Ch., N. Darfee, 200 ; 

otherri 21, 221 00 

Framingham, 0. Barrett, 25 ; others 16.26, 41 26 
Greenfield, First Ch., 10 ; Second Ch., 26, to 

CODS. Rev. P. C. Hradly, a L. D., 86 00 

Groton, W. B. Hammond 26; co'.Romnth- 
erd, 26.08, to cons. Rev. E. A. Bulkley, 
Life Directi>r, 61 OS 

Hamilt«in, A. W. Bodge, 6 00 

HoUi^toD, of whiih 25 is from Ladies, to 

cons. Rev. J T. Tucker, L. D., 67 45 

Hopkinton, J. C. Wel>8Cer, 6.00 

Ipswich, G. W. Heard, 26 00 

Leomiiiter, J. W. Fletcher, 6 00 

Lynn, First Ch , 150 ; Central Ch., 41,82, 191 81 

Marshfleld, First Ch.. 12 40 

Medford, 2d Ch., S. Train, 100 ; others, 29, 

to con>*t. Rev. E. P. Marvin L. D., 129 00 

*' Mystic Ch., G. James, 100 00 

Med way, E.ist Par. 6 25 ; West Par. 9 ; Yil- 

laae 14 29 26 

Milton Railway YiliHge. 12 00 

Needham, Orantville Ch., to const. Rev. Mr. 

Acwfiod L. D. 26 00 

Northbridge, Whitin^ville Ch.. 86 00 

N«irth HriJgewater, Cnmpello Ch., 14 00 

New Bedford, Nortn Ch., of which 25 from 
ladie:*, ro constitute Rev. U. W. Parker 
L. D., 47 ; Trinitarian Ch 25 to connt. 
Rev. VV. Crnig I.. D. ; Pacific Ch. 26 to 
const. Rev. T. St«iwe L. D., 98 00 

Newton, 1st Ch. W. Clatlin, 100, others, 51 50, 151 60 
'* Went Par , J . S. Clark, 200 ; Mi<« S. Bax- 
ter, 25 to const. Rev. G. B Little L D. ; 
C. Rich, J. Wbiie, G. N. Nichols, and S. 
Jones, each 25 ; othera 86, 411 00 

" Eliot Ch., J. W. Edwards, J. C. Potter, 
and J. N. Bacon. each 100; D. K. Hitch- 
cock, 50; R. L. Day, D. Uarwood, and 
F. A. Benson, each 25 ; others, 14. 489 00 

'* Aoburndale Ch , C. C. Burr, lOO ; S. 
Harding, 50; F. P. Shumway, U. F. 
Walker, and C. W. Robinson, each 25 ; 
othent, 51, 276 00 

Northboro, W Fay, 26 00 

Orleans, Cong. Ch., 6 00 

Palmer. 2d Ch., to const. Rev. J. TalU, D.D., 
L. b., of which 41 from the State Farm 
School, to const Rev. I£. B. Wright L.D., 66 00 
Philiip4t4m, S. W. Barnum, 25 00 

PittKfield, H. Humphrey, 5 00 

Plymouth Center Ch., T. Gordon. 25; la* 
dies 25, to const. Rev. N. Bianchard L. 
D. ; oth«rs, 22, 72 00 

Plymplon, col. in Cong. Ch., 5 00 

Quincy, Mrs. Lucy Maish, 50 ; others, 23, 73 00 

Randolph, 1st Ch., E. Aiden, 100 ; others, 17, 117 00 
" 2d Ch , of which 25 from ladies, to ouust. 

Dr £. Rua>ell L. li., 50 00 

Roxbury, Eiioc Ch., U. Bond. 200 ; W. W. 
D.ivenpurt, 100 ; R. Andersoti, 25 ; oth- 
er*, 100, 428 00 
'• Vine St. Ch., H. Hill, 200 ; J. P. Ropes, 
100, 800 00 
Saleui, i'abemacle Ch., of tt^hich 25 from la- 
dies, to const. Rev. Dr. S. M. Worcester 
L.D , 87 ; South Ch. to const. Rev. J. E. 
Dwineli L. D., 31 ; t^rombie St. Ch., R. 
P. Waters, 250 ; J. M. Hoppin, 100, 468 00 
Sandwich, Monument Ch , £. Dow, 25 00 
Saxonville, G. B. Northrop, 10 ; others, 16, 26 00 
Bfeontham, Gong, collection, 12 00 



332 



Cortgrcgcdional Library Association. 



[July. 



Starbridg^, nf whfrh 25 from ladlaf, to const. 

Ker !«. U. OUpp L. D. 66 75 

Trmplftoii CoKg. t'h., 8 qO 

Uxbildge, W. C. Cniron, 25 ; o^her«, lO.rX), 44 60 
U'me ViliMiEe Ch., \V. Iiy«ie. 25; <aiien«. of 

wi f-h 2i to const. KrT. A. £. F. Ferklns 

L D.,46. 71 00 

Warmi, to c.n*t. Rev. 8. S. SmUh L. D., 27 00 

Wvsti'Oro', of whirh 25 flroiii Udlos, to const. 

KrT. L H. SiivMou L. D., 50 00 

West Bro«>kfl.'M, 11 00 

\Y9rt OiimbiiUg**, J. Flfld, 500; A. G. Perk, 

100: J. UurMKe, 25; ludies, to cou«>t. 

Rot. D. Cady I.. P.. 25, 6j0 00 

West Uoxt.ury. K. O. E'll«, and T. T. lUch- 

mond, ea<h 25 ; ortuT". 5, 55 00 

'' jMOiaica PImId, A. 11. Quint. 2j 00 

H'eynioiirh. Sou'h Pitr.2di;ii., to const. ItoT. 

J. P. Terry L. D., 25 00 

** Ubion Cb., 16 00 

WlorheiidOD, North Cb., to const. Rev. A. P. 

Blarviu L. D., 25 00 

Worv«»trr, Onirttl Ch., P. ^Vhitoomb, 100 00 

'* Uiiiun Ch., J. U'aiihburn, 50 00 

RUODB ISLAND. 

Barrfngtnn, of which 25 from ladies, to const. 

R«T. F. llortdu L. U., 49 00 

BrlstDl. to const. Rw. T. Rhepard, D.D., 

L.D., 83 25 

Prori •fUff, High St. Ch., A. C. Barstoir, 

100; 9. Wolco.t. 5. 105 00 

" lieiieflcvnt CU., iV. 8. Ureeiie, 25; A. U. 

Clapp, 5, 80 00 

'* ('eutr.iiCh., J. Kin^bury, 25 ; L. Strain, 

6. 80 00 

'* Richmond Sr. Ch., to const. Rev. J. Lea- 

▼itt, D.D., L.D. 25 00 

NEW YOUK. 

Brooklyn, Ch. of Pilgrim«, C. W. Mfiore, 25 00 

NetrYurk, L. M<i^ij,50, 8. B. Jluiir, 50; 
\V. PattOD, 25 ; D. U. foe, 5 ; W. C. Oil- 
mau. 5, 135 00 

Walton, Rev. J. 8. Pettingill's Cong., ' 7 00 

omo. 

Portage, Dudley Ilumphrey, 3 00 



it 



OFFICERS OF THE 80CIETT. 

ItoT. WILLIAM T D.VlGUr, D.D„ Por:land, Mo. 

Vice President*. 
ReT. Jou.x A. Albbo, D.D , Cambri«lge, Ms. 
'* Bbxjasiin T.iPH^N, D.D., Augusta. Me. 
N.iTHAMEL liouTO.'v. D.D., Concutd, N. U. 
Silas Aikbk, D.D., Rutland, Tt. 
JoeLlI\w£8, D.D.fllirtfnr.l, Ct. 
TuoMAS SaEPAKD,D.D , Bristol, K. 1. 
Ray Palmer, D.D., Albany, N. Y. 
J. M. BuriKtL, Mtrietta, Ohio. 
L 8 Hub iKT, Ann Arbor, Mich. 
S. C. BARTLBrr, CbicMgo, III. 
M. A. jEwrrr, Tt-rre Ilaut«*, Ind. 
Asa Tu&nbr, Denmark, Iowa. 
J. J. MiTBR, lieaTer Dam. Wis. 
Ubxet WiLKBi, D.D.f Montreal, Canada. 



It 



it 



tt 



»t 



tt 



Dtreetors. 
Ri.'T. Parjio.vm Cooke, D.D., Lynn. 

*^ Skwell II\HDi3rG, B<>sron. 
Julius A. Palmer. E-q , Do-oon. 

ReT. I1K5RT M. DeXTER, B«ton. 
QaRD>ER Q llUBBVRD, E-'q., B<>ston. 
Ab.nsr Kingman, £.tq , Bo'tton. 
Hev. Rupu:} A:iDER80.>r, D.D., Boston. 
Charles Scudder, £:M] , Boston. 

ConesponfJiits! Secretary and Ltbrarian 
Rev. JosKpa S. Clark, D.D. , Boston. 

Rteordin^ Stcrelary. 
ItoT. A. 11. Qui.xT, Jamaica Plain. 

Trtmurtr, 
Jambs P. Melledob, Em}., Cambridge. 



The Conoueg.vtioxal Lihuary is open daily, (Sundays excepted,) from 7 o'clock, 
A. M., in the summer, and 8 o'clock in the winter, till sun-set, at the Congregational 
Library Building, 23 Chauncy Street, Boston. 

Donations in Money or Books, and all communications relative to the general in- 
terests of the Association, should be sent to Rev. Jo.^eph S. Clark, Corre^pomiing Secre- 
tary and Librarian. 

Quarterly Meetings of the Association, for reading essays, &c., are held at 3 P. M. 
on the last AVednesdays of August, November and February', besides the Annual Meeting 
on the last Tuesday of May. Meetings of Directors are held on each of the other months 
at the same day and hour. 



Form of a Bequest. — I give unto the Treasurer, for the time being, of the ** Con- 
gregational Library Association," the sum of dollars, for the 
purposes of said Society, and for which the receipt of such Treasurer shall be a suificicnt 
discharge. 



^v 



V^'':<r» vV^ 






IV 












..v-^ 









l'^ 



r" 




//■ /L/.M. 



THE 



(S^m^rtQixtiaMl (fitHrt^rlj. 



Vol. I.— OCTOBER, 1859.— No. IV. 



WILLIAM PHILLIPS. 



BT BBT. JOHN L. TATLOB, ANDOTBB, MS. 



William Phillips, for many yean 
Lieut. Governor of this Commonwealth, 
holds a central and prominent place in a 
family group of world-wide celebrity ; he 
is also deservedly not less conspicuous in 
the larger brotherhood of eminent Chris- 
tian civilians in oar country, who have 
lived and labored in the closest sympathy 
with the clergy of their times. 

This family group is so remarkable 
that one can never look at it without an 
impulse to portray the virtues of the many 
and various characters, all of which are 
eminent, lest to give one any special 
prominence should seem a kind of injus- 
tice to the others. We have oi\en asked 
ourselves, how it is possible that such a 
subject as the History of the Phillips Fam- 
ily, should have failed to interest some 
historic mind long ago ? Such a succes- 
sion of models in character — such varied 
eminence in church and state — the far- 
seeing use of wealth in so many benefi- 
cent and affluent gif^s to subserve the 
cause of patriotism, education, or reli- 
gion, might well enlist a writer worthy of 
BO good a theme. Attractive as one sep- 
arate portrait might be, the true character 
oi each would be best seen when fitly 
VOL. I. 48 



surrounded by its peen in the long and 
favored line. It may now be too late for 
such a work to be properly done ; yet, if 
it is so, we cannot cease to ask, why was 
it not sooner done ? — and, if it cannot 
now be so well done as it might have 
been a quarter of a century since, could 
it not even now be so far done worthily 
by some congenial author, in command of 
sufiicient time and means for the needed 
research, as to enrich our religious litera- 
ture with a most invaluable volume ? 
Our Congregational Quarterly has a spe- 
cial mission, we cannot doubt, for the 
present and future, in just this province, 
— the past neglect of which excites in us 
now such profound regrets. But we 
should regret to see such wide and rich 
fields of history as these, lefl to this form 
of culture only. 

Let us, however, notwithstanding our 
embarrassments and regrets, briefly com- 
memorate the subject of this sketch, in a 
few passing pages here. 

For a period of one hundred and thirty 
years before his birth the family name 
had been specially honored in New Eng- 
land ; its distinction thus far arising not 
from wealth, or the munificent charitably 



334 



WtlUam PkOUps. 



[Oct. 



use of it, but from zeal in behalf of edu- 
cation and religion, coupled with those 
solid and attractive traits of character 
which every where ensure a commanding 
influence. The pioneer patriarch of the 
family in this country, Rev. George Phil- 
lips^ had been educated at Cambridge in 
England, where he gained an honorable 
distinction in the Church, before the spirit 
of non-conformity impelled him to emi- 
grate to this country. 

His son Samuel,* a child only five years 

1 ReT. George PhiUips at the age of 87, with 
hit wife and a (ion and daughter, landed in Sa- 
lem, June 12th, 1630, with Got. Winthrop, Sir 
Richard Saltonstall, Rev. John Wilaon, Simon Brad- 
street and others. Ilia wife soon died. LeaTing Sa- 
lem, with Rev. Mr. Wilson, he first preached tempo- 
rarily at the settlement in Charlestown, hut not long 
after removed with Sir Richard and his company to 
Watertown. Here during a ministry of 14 years he 
was eminently uneful, and in all the affairs of the 
rising state, as well ajt of the rising church, he was a 
leader in the Colony. Hu is represented as having 
been '^ the earliest advocate of the Congregational 
order and discipline ; in which," says nubbbari, '' he 
was deeply versed and very skilful. '' lie was also, 
with his ruling Elder, Richard Browne, among the 
first to resist taxation in the Colony, without the 
people's consent, and was in honorable collision with 
the Governor and Assistants, for a time, on this l8.«ue, 
but finally convinc«"t tbem and triumphed in his 
bold stand fir frceiom. He if* said to have been in 
the habit of reading the Bible through rguhirly six 
times every year, and to have been so lamiliHr with 
it '* that he wnrt able on the sudden to turn to any 
text without the help of Concordances." " neverthe- 
less he did use to say that every tiute he read the 
Bible he obi'ttrved or coUecti'd somethiug which he 
never did before.'- It was thi^ remarkable f>itiiiliar- 
ity with the Scriptures which ma<le him w f >rwida- 
hlo a.H a Voncoi fonnitt, in the disruptions of the 
raof her country, and so skillful as >i cotitn^ver-^lHlist 
in the equally earnesr debntvs which aro»« during 
his day in the Oolouy. He died very suddenly, in 
the height of hU usefulnes.*<, in .Inly, 1644. af;ed 51, 
"a godly man," j»a>i« Winthrop, •• 8|>«< ially gifted, 
and very peaceful in bis plsci* ; much Umenfed of his 
own people and others."— iJo/i^/'j Hfslory of WntrT' 
town, p. 872. Math^'s Ma^nalm, Bk. III. p. 82-84. 
2 This son of the Pritriarch at Waterrown, Kev. 
Satnutl PhiUips, was settled In the ministry at Row- 
ley in 1661, the year afUT his jfra4lusMn:i from CtA- 
lege. *• He was,'- save (» ige in hi.« history of Rowley, 
"highly e.^'teemed foi h'\^ piety and falentB, uhl li 
were of no common order, ind he wa> eminently use- 
ful, both at home and abroad. He cfTi'iM'ed rt^peat- 
edly at the great public ant ivematie*. which pur in 
requisition the abilities of the first men in rhe New 
England Colonies." We have had rhe opportunity 
to ptmae a large number of his manuscripts, which 



old on their arrival here, was the firrt 
Alumnus of the name at Harvard College, 
which the father had done much to foster; 
and was subsequently, for forty-6ve years 
a faithful and honored pastor at Rowley. 
Nor was the succession of liberally edu- 
cated sons, or of clergj'men, in the family, 
at any time broken until many years after 
the birth of the* subject of this notice. 
One of the younger sons of the pastor at 
Rowley, bearing the name of the pastor 
at Watertown, Rev. George Phillips, after 
graduating at Harvard in 1686, was set- 
tled in the ministry at Jamaica, L. I., in 
1693, and in Brookhaven in 1697. An 
elder son had established himself in busi- 
ness as a goldsmith, at Salem ; and his 
oldest son, Samuel, is enrolled also among 
the Alumni of Harvard, as a graduate of 
the class of 1708. This great grandson 
of the pastor at Watertown was for sixty 
years the distinguished divine of Ando- 
ver,* honored alike for his own sake, and 

are well worthy of his reputation as a man and a 
minister. He died in 1696, *' greatly beloved and la- 
mented."' At the time of his de< ease, one of his sons 
was a clergyman on Long Island, and one of his 
daughters was the wife of Rev. Edumrd Payfon, 
who had l)een for fourteen years his colleague In the 
ministry. Twenty >ear8 since "acha.steand hand- 
some marble monument was placed over the re- 
mains of Mr. Phillips Mud his wite In the burial 
ground of Rowley, by Hon. Jonathan Phlllipc,of 
Boston, their gr. gr. gr. grandson.'* 

3 Rev. Samuel PhiUips, of Andover, was first a 
teacher in the town of E-sex, near Salem, after leav- 
ing College, but began iu April, 1710, \o preach in 
the South Precinct at Audover, to a cougregatioB 
then first gathered, and on the 17th of October, 1711. 
was ordained over (he Church which had b<ren organ- 
ised in due fbrm on that d ty 

It was a case of " church -ex len.sion,*' in the grow- 
ing towu, not of strictly miS"*iouary enterpri«e, but 
he had been identified with it fr )m its v«ry germ 
He drew up the Coeeiiant under whi«-h the Church 
was formed, and sufificribed his name to it, at the 
head of the list, us one ot it^ uietnbers Of this flock 
which he had gathered, he remained, in the true^^t 
and Jest seiiHe, the bishop, till his deceas«f, June 6, 
1771, at the age of 81. A fairhful and stirring 
preacher, a judicious pastor, the author of numerous 
published sermons and treatises, as '^ tracts for the 
times '"—vigilant in every form agriinst the inroads 
of error— fertile in plans of charity to which a liberal 
portion of his scanty stipend was religiously devoted, 
—and carefully educating his sons, in accordance 
with his ileal, his name will b« held " in vverUsdnf 
remembraace.^' 



1859.] 



WilHam PhzlHps. 



335 



in the three eminent sons ^ who so'^wor- 

In bis Will, wriu«n when he wu 74 ytu» of age, 
there ii a Terj eharaeteriiiUo paragraph, a portion of 
which we oaanot forbear to quote here ; *■'■ and now,*' 
he lays, '* mjr desire and prayer ia yt my sd three 
sona .... make it their care to be found in Christf 
mnd to wrre Iheir Oencration according to ye will of 
Ood, by doing good as they ihall liare opportunity 
unto all men, and especially to ye household of faith \ 
as knowing yt it is more blessed to gite ttuin to re- 
eeive." The beneficent spirit thus inculcated, he 
had exemplified throughout hid Ub. Among liis 
legacies, though liis estate was not large, was a be- 
quest of *' £100 L. M*y, as an abiding fund for ye 
relief of indigent persons in the South Parish of An- 
dorer, aforesaid ;" and another of XlOO L. M*y for 
ye pious and charitable use of propagating Christian 
knowledge among ye Indians of North America." 

1 The three sons of Ret. Samuel Phillips, at Ando- 
Ttr, Samuel, John and William, were already, before 
their father's decease, men of distinguished eminence 
and usefulness. 

Samuel PkiUips, Esq.^ the eldest of the trio, bom 
Feb*y 18, 1716, graduated at Uanrard hi 1784, and 
after teaehiug a grammar school in his natite town 
fat a time, established himself in business as a mer- 
chant in the North Parish of the town, where he 
married, and resided until his decease in 1790. He 
was very prominent in town offices and aflairs, was a 
deacon in the Church, a justice of the peace and the 
quorum, often a representatite of the town in the 
General Court, and also repeatedly a member of the 
Szecutite Council, both before and after the K«to1u- 
tion. In the Ketolution itself he took the most 
active and nalous interest, and under his leading 
influence the town contributed often and largely of 
its money and men, In the great struggle. By his 
uncommon sagacity, industry, energy and fhigality, 
Mr. Phillips accumulated a large fortune, a portion 
of which he devoted to the enterprise of founding 
Phillips Academy, which his son had projected, and 
hla brother helped to endow. At his decease, none 
of his seven children were living, except this far 
seeing and eminent son. 

John I^iUipSj LL.D.^ the second of the three 
brothers, was born Dec. 27, 1719. He was also edu- 
cated at Harvard, graduating in the class next after 
his brother Samuel's in 1785. After teaching for a 
short period, he was licensed to preach the gospel, 
but did not eontinue long in the profession, chiefly 
beeause of his modest sense of deficiencies In the 
work. He was soon a successful merchant at Exeter, 
N. U., rapidly accumulating property, which he 
early began to distribute with a munificent hand. 
Under the influence of his nephew at Andover, for 
whom he felt great respect as well as affection, he 
cordially oo-operated with his brother Samnet In 
fbunding Phillips Academy, and soon after endowed 
Phillips Exeter Academy, as sole founder, by a gift 
of S60,000. To both these schools he also made still 
further donations, at a later date, besides other large 
charities, among which was the endowment of a Pro- 
JiBSSorahip of Theology at Dartmouth College. He 
4kd in 1796) leaTingno cbildreBiUid beqa»tfiing 



thily illustrated his virtues. Two of these 
three sons wei*e also educated at Harvard 
and have honorably enrolled their names 
among the most generous patrons of learn- 
ing in our country. 

But, His Honor, the late Lt. Governor, 
William Phillips, a grand-son of the An- 
dover divine, though so many of the fam- 
ily had been liberally educated — most of 
whom had chosen the clerical profession — 
was thrown upon a totally different line 
of life, as his father had been before him. 
This father, the youngest of the trio above 
named, lefl the principal part of a very 
large estate, at his decease, to this his 
only surviving son. The father had been 
a distinguished patriot and patron of insti- 
tutions of learning, — intimate with a large 
circle of the clergy — prominent in all the 
public councils of the city and of the 
Commonwealth — but, more than all, from 
his very youth, he had been a merchant — 

one third of his estate to the Academy at Andover, 
and two thirds to his Academy at Exeter. 

Hon. WtiUam PhiUipSy the youngest of these 
brotherf), born June 25, 1722, left his father's house 
at the age of fifteen, to be a eletk in the service of 
Edward Bromfleld, Esq., of Uostou, whose daughter 
he afterwards married, and with whom he also be- 
came partner In a business which made him ulti- 
mately one of the richest men in New England. 
The large fortune, which he had acquired before the 
Revolution, and which steadily increased afterwards, 
during bis protracted life, was ireely med in every 
form of patriotic and public spirited liberality. In 
ttie heated contests of Bodton with Royal Governors, 
and troops, Mr. Philiips bore a conspicuous part, with 
such leaders as the Adamses, Hancock, Warren, and 
Quincy. He Was also called to a long and vaiied 
civil service in originating and administering the 
Government ot the Sute. His eldest daughter was 
married to Josiah Quincy, Jr., the young orator of 
Revolutionary fkme, whofe early death was so 
greatly lamented in that great crisis. Mr. Phillips 
made repeated and liberal donations to Phillips 
Academy, which his two elder brothers had founded, 
and asHisted many other institutions and charitable 
enterprises, with his wealth ; but left a very large 
estate, at his death. He was for many years a dea- 
con in the Old South Church. He died in 1804, " in 
a good old age, full of days, riches and honors. " 

These three brothers were successively Presidents 
of the Board of Trustees of Phillips Academy, until 
near the close of William's life, when Samuel Phil- 
lips, Jr., who had pUinned the Institution, was elect- 
ed in his stead. Excellent portraits of the four who 
were so fclentifled with the early hiitory of the school, 
nowadomitshAllf. 



SS0 



WSHam PhiO^i. 



(0«f. 



the type and prophecy of a long line 
of " merchant princes/' who have, since 
his day, done so much honor to our me- 
tropolis. This son was born March 30, 
1750. 

His feeble constitution, and especially 
the weakness of his eyes, forbad his pur- 
suing an extended course of study. With 
such an education only as could be ac- 
quired under these disadvantacres, in the 
schools of Boston, and amid many inter- 
ruptions, he had little prospect in early 
manhoo<l of extensive influence, or use- 
fulness in any sphere. He had not the 
strength for those cares and labors in bu- 
siness, which still occupied his father ; he 
was too modest and reserved, to desire 
political service, or to hope for success in 
it ; nor was there much scope for such 
service at the time. It was an era of dis- 
cussion, of conflict, of excited passion, of 
suspense and foreboding. The oppressed 
Colonies had resisted the Stamp Act, and 
procured its repeal ; but a still more ex- 
citing struggle was now impending. Regi- 
ments of British troops were quartered in 
Boston. The Legislature would not sit 
in the presence of such menacing demon- 
strations, and had withdrawn from the 
State House, to the College Chapel at 
Cambridge. Insolent troops and high- 
spirited citizens could not long stand in 
such an attitude without some catastro- 
phe. There must be — there was — a 
bloody collision — and thenceforth the 
Boston Massacre — March 5, 1770 — was 
an event to be commemorated. 

Mr. Phillips was now just completing 
his twentieth year. Tumults like these, 
in word and deed, were still exciting the 
Colony (and no one in it more than his 
resolute father) when, in 1773, he set sail 
from Boston for England. Doubtless one 
of his hopes in this voyage, was to escape 
from the excitements of a contest, which 
was so threatening, yet unwelcome and 
apparently disastrous ; but he sought also, 
and especially, the mental improvement 
and physical vigor which the long tour 
might give him, and he was not disap- 



pointed. The Mother Country, in its 
nous sections, he thoroughly explored; 
his travels were also extended to Belgium, 
Holland, and several other regions on the 
Continent; but in 1774 he returned, and 
threw himself zealously into that great 
struggle which he had desired to avoid. 
He was a passenger in one of the tea 
ships^ which met such a reception in Bos- 
ton harbor ; and what he had seen abroad, 
as well as what he now witnessed at home, 
gave a new tone to his character, and a 
new direction to his life. He became ac- 
tive, energetic, resolute, self-sacrificing. 
He engaged personally in enterprises and 
cares, of the most practical nature, de- 
signed to promote the Revolntion — prom- 
inent among which, at first, was a vigor- 
ous movement, by means of armed schoon- 
ers, and other small vessels, to capture 
British merchantmen on the co^t ; and 
especially the transports, which were 
bringing in supplies of provisions, cloth- 
ing, etc., for the troops. One object of 
this movement, was to procure, if possible, 
supplies of powder for our army, the ex- 
treme want of which greatly embarrassed 
its operations. 

Mr. Phillips was, however, yet too 
young, and besides was constitutionally 
too retiring, to be specially conspicuous 
in the Revolutionary drama. It better 
suited him to cooperate in a quiet way 
with his father, with his brother-in-law — 
the eloquent Quincy — with his Uncle at 
Andover, and with that ** paragon of ex- 
cellence," his young cousin, Samuel Phil- 
lips, Jr,y also of Andover, while they and 
their associate leaders in the strife, were 
boldly breaking away from the king, and 
inaugurating a Republic. But this deep 
interest in the patriotic contest, revealed 
his capacity for public affairs, and helped 
to prepare him for his long and honorable 
civil services in later years. It may be 
doubted whether anything less stimula- 
ting than this crisis, would have drawn 
him from the retirement which he never 
ceased to prefer. 

Soon afler his return ftom his foreigB 



185d.] 



FFtSfom Ph^. 



m 



toar, in 1774, he married Miss Miriam 
Mason, daughter of Hon. Jonathan Ma- 
son, of Boston ; but for a considerable 
period, while Boston was in the hands of 
the British, he withdrew, as did also the 
family of his father, to Norwich, Ct. ; and 
here his 6rst child was bom.^ This was 
the family home, when tidings of Mr. 
Quincy's death, jast as he came in sight of 
his native shores, on his return from a 
patriotic mission to England, — reached 
them and overwhelmed them with grief. 
They were, however, soon, reinstated in 
their city residence, and thenceforth their 
life moved on quietly and prosperously, 
while the clouds of the revolutionary 
storm were bursting over other portions 
of the land. 

Mr. Phillips had united with the Old 
South Church, of which both his father 
and father-in-law were now deacons, in 
1772, before his voyage to Europe; and 
for several years he was chiefly occupied 
in the congenial duties of his attractive 
home and church, with only such atten- 
tion to business and to public affairs, as 
suited his tastes. 

He lived then and always afterwards, 
more than most men do, in the society 
and for the welfare of his family ; and few 
men are so favored as he was in the do- 
mestic circle. The children, whom it was 
his first care to train according to the he- 
reditary family models, with the aid of his 
most estimable wife,' became distinguished 
in their several spheres,* The Church, 

1 Id Norwich thaj occopled the Anaold Mansion — 
the honae In which, it is said, the traitor Benedict 
Arnold was born. 

t Mrs. PhiUips died May 7, 1828, " greatly lament- 
ed," at the age of nearly 70. She was a lady " distin- 
galsbed for intelligence and discretion, eminent for 
piety and benevolence." 

s The children of Mr. PhiUips were :— 

1. William Mason ; bom Deo. 10, 1776 ; died Jan. 

1, 1784. 

2. Jonathan; bom May 2, 1777; died Oct. 27, 1777. 
& Jonathan ; born April 24, 1778 ; State Senator ; 

resides still In Boston. 

4. Miriam ; bom Jane 9, 1779 ; Married Dea. Sam- 
uel U-. Walley ; died March 26, 1827. 

6. Bdword; bora Jane 24, 1782; Deacon in the 
OM 8o«lfa GhoTCh ; dM Nov. 4, UM. 



which be cherished with a similar intere^ 
and to which so many family ties drew 
him, chose him one of its deacons in 1794, 
while his father was yet serving in the 
same office ; and amid all the religions 
discussions and controversies of his times, 
he continued to honor it with his labors 
and gifls, as well as with his hearty affec- 
tion. In 1817 his son Edward was elect- 
ed a deacon, and served with him until 
his death, as he had done with his father, 
— a most suggestive fact in the history of 
household faith. 

But it was not the design of Providence 
to enrich his favored family and Church 
alone by means of his character and his 
life. Content though he was in retire- 
ment, and much, as he sought it, a broader 
6eld was opening before him, to which he 
felt himself gradually drawn as by an in- 
visible hand. Both his sphere and his 
attraction to it, in this respect, were two- 
fold, but, to a great extent, parallel. 

The time had come for him to com- 
mence serving the public in a long suc- 
cession and great variety of civil offices. 
In the full maturity of his powers, his 
counsels were especially valued. He had 
never been, and he never became, a pub- 
lic speaker; but in any familiar, informal 
discussion, and especially in careful, far- 
seeing common sense judgment, he had 
few equals. At first, therefore, he was 
persuaded for several years to sit as a 
representative of Boston in the General 
Court; then in twelve successive elections 
he was chosen Lt. Governor ; and twice 
he was appointed Presidential Elector. 
In all of these offices it was his unfailing 
good judgment, which gave him his chief 
influence. As Lt Governor he was asso- 
ciated with two eminent civilians — Gov- 
ernors Strong and Brooks — both of whom 
reposed great confidence in him. Gk>ver- 
nor Brooks once said of him *' that in all 

6. Abakan Bromfield; bora Feb. 6, 1790; married 

ReT. Dr. Bargees, of Dedham, where she no# 
resides. 

7. WiUiam, born Oct. 18, 1791. 

— See Bon(Ps Otnealogieal Hittory of Wattriowny 
P^884,tto. 



338 



Wmm PhUHpt. 



[Oct. 



their consultations and deliberations he 
had never known him to give an errone- 
ous opinion." 

This fact sufficiently explains the cir- 
cumstance of his entering upon political 
life at an age when most men retire 
fix>m it. 

It was his mission to serve the public, 
not in the ambition and fervor of early 
manhood, but in that calm discretion 
which grows ripe, even when the eye 
grows dim. And here we see him stand- 
ing in a peculiar and noticeable relation 
to his eminent cousin, Samuel Phillips, 
Junior. This very remarkable young 
man was the younger of the two, and had 
now finished his memorable life ; such a 
life as few ever have the opportunity or 
the force of character to spend. In him, 
solidity of judgment was a special birth- 
right. He was a man in childhood. He 
was the counsellor of other men in his 
youth. The echo of his footsteps in the 
hails of Harvard had scarcely died away, 
before his townsmen sent him, then but 
23 years of age, as their representative to 
the Provincial Congress at Watertown, 
where the family patriarch had recited 
from his labors. From that day to the 
day of his death he was in public life 
without intermission. A member of the 
Conventiou for framing the Constitution 
of the Commonwealth, specially active 
and influential — a Senator as soon as the 
new State Government was organized — 
for fifteen years President of the Senate, 
usually by a unanimous vote, whatever 
might be the state ot political parties — at 
the same time Judge of the Court of Com- 
mon Pleas in Essex County — a Commis- 
sioner, to treat with the insurgents in the 
Shays* rebellion — and finally Lt. Gover- 
nor, we cannot wonder at his early de- 
cease. This was too anxious and respon- 
sible a career for a young man ; much as 
his wisdom may have surpassed his years. 
Yet to all this he had added an incredible 
success in other lines of life, totally dis- 
similar. He had been an extensive farm- 
er — an enterprising merchant — a lai^e 



manufacturer of powder, and paper — and, 
above all, the originator and vigilant su- 
pervisor of a model Classical Academy in 
his native town, the first incorporated 
8(rhool in the State — and so, borne down 
by his multifarious labors — all performed 
with consummate ability — at fifl}- years 
of age he had been carried to his tomb ; * 
just as his cousin in Boston was preparing 
to gird himself for his public career. And 
so the elder enters into the labors of the 
younger ; bringing to his work the same 
integrity, patriotism, sagacity; not more 
thoroughly perfected by years in the one, 
than in the other by a rare temperament, 
physical, mental, and moral. 

But while Mr. Phillips, thus succeeding 
his honored cousin in political life, was 
serving his fellow citizens, in this variety 
of civil offices, he became also specially 
prominent in the great educational, phil- 
anthropic, and evangelizing enterprises 
of that period. 

His father bad died in 1804. The 
princely estate which he now received, 
as principal heir, became in his hands a 
noble instrument, thenceforth, of Christian 
beneficence. He had watched the zeal- 
ous efibrts of his cousin to originate the 
Academy at Andover, with great interest ; 
he had witnessed the early success of that 
enterprise, and of a similar one, which 
grew out of it, at Exeter — in both of 
which '* the first and principal object ** 
was declared to be ** the promotion of 
true piety and virtue ; *' and now he was 
permitted, as his cousin had not been, to 
see that this auspicious wedlock of learn- 
ing and religion, especially at Andover, 
was the germ, not only of other institu- 
tions such as the Academy at Exeter, but 
of new methods of professional training 
for the clergy, and new forms of religious 



1 Lt. GoTemor Samuel Phillips wm born Feb 5, 
1762, at North Andover, and died at his mansion, in 
South AndoTer, Feb. 10, 1802. On the day of hie 
interment, Feb. 15th, funeral serrices were held in 
the presence of Qovernor Strong and many members 
of the Council, the Senate and the llouse of Kepre- 
sentatiTee, who were present at Andover ; and also in 
BoetoD, where a Urge ooncouzse was gathtnd. 



1859.] 



maam Phillips. 



SS9 



activity in the charches, such as would 
constitute a great era in the world's his- 
tory — nor was he to be in all this chiefly 
a spectator, but an actor. He had already 
been for many years a member of the 
Board of Trustees at Andover, having 
been elected in 1791, soon after the de- 
cease of one of the founders of the Acad- 
emy, and while his father and his cousin 
were still bestowing upon the institution 
their parental cart', and their frequent 
gifts. Now the spirit of the family that 
had devisetl and fostered the school, seem- 
ed to have a new and broader develop- 
ment in him — correspondent with the 
new links that appeared in the chain of 
that higher purpose which had led them 
on. 

He not only watched, as his predeces- 
sors had done, over the i>till rising Acade- 
my, helping the struggling indigent youth 
in it largely every year by his gifts, and 
adding to its endowments ; but he applied 
his rare wisdom and foresight to the great 
work, which was suddenly proposed, of 
adjusting a distinct Theological Institu- 
tion to the existing classical school, so 
that neither should injure the other; but 
each be a h^lp to its neighbor. In no 
political exigency wa-« his proverbial 
soundness of judgment ever more needed, 
or more readily recognized ; and once 
originated iinder his eye, the new Semi- 
nary had no friend more firm or ardent 
than he. The doctrines which it was 
established to defend and propagate, were 
such as he had been taught by the fathers, 
and wished to transmit to the children ; 
thev were the seeds of missions, reforms, 
revivals, such as he loved to contemplate. 
He saw them in his faith pregnant with a 
great and vital future, for which he was 
waiting in prayer and hope, as prophets 
and kings looked for th^ days of Messiah** 
coaiinjT. And sooner even than he could 
foresee, the goodly seed was waving in a 
rich harvest before him ! 

Within the pale ot the young seminar}', 
and under its direct influence, the Amer- 
ican Board of Foreign Missions was soon 



planned — the Education Society — the 
Tract Society — the Monthly Concert of 
Prayer — the first religious newspaper — 
followed in quick succession ; while at 
other centers yet other enterprises and 
organizations of a similar character were 
originated, to enlarge, if not complete, 
the great sisterhood ; to all of which he 
was attracted, like the steel to the magnet. 
We cannot attempt to tell in how many 
such new schemes of Christian zeal, his 
agency was prominent from their very 
origin ; nor with what unostentatious be- 
nevolence of heart, he |K)ured into all 
these new channels, year after year, the 
streams of his consecrated wealth. It is 
enough to say, that for many years pre- 
ceding his death no man in the Common- 
wealth was in this respect his peer; no 
other man dispensed his large gifts, for 
religious and charitable purposes, so va- 
riously, so often, so zealously ; as if this 
were now, above all things else, his chief 
and chosen work. 

In his later years, he became much in- 
terested in yet another important project 
at Andover, to be engrafted upon the old 
stock — Phillips Academy. This was a 
Teacher's Seminary, or Normal School. 
He did not live to see this plan carried 
into effect, but it was subsequently ma- 
tured, and after a tew years the new off- 
shoot was appended to the Academy an 
an English Department. 

To show how intimately and promi- 
nently he had become connected with 
almost every point in the wide ciicle of 
beneficiary enterprises, at the time of his 
decease. Dr. Wisner states in a note to 
his funeral discourse, that '' during the 
last three weeks of his life he contributed 
to different charitable objects above 
$5,000 — an amount which would doubt- 
less have been nearly doubled, had he 
lived a few days longer " ; — so his deeds 
had come to be estimated — the gift* were 
" thousands ** — the intervals — " a few 
days." " At the time of his death," con- 
tinues Dr. Wisner, " he was President of 
the Maaaachusetts Bible Society, of the 



uo 



WSOim PkiB^ 



[Otn 



SodetT' for Fropagatiiig the G«p«l, of 
the Amerioan Ednoalian Societj, of the 
Foreign MImod Socie^ of BoBtoo and 
Vicinity, of the Coogregational Charitv 
Ue Societyi of the General Hospital Co> 
poration, of the Boaton DttpejuKty, and 
of the TruMeei of Phillips Academj', at 
Andover. Among the bequeiti in bii 
Will, are legaciea to tltven dili'erent lattx- 
totions and charitable societittB — amounts 
iog to (he nim of S6'2,OO0 ;' and during 
MTeral of ihe later jean of hi^ life his 
annuo/ gift*, in the varioo* channels of 
hit benelioence, were more, it biaid, than 
SIO.OOO. 

Much therefore u ha was elevated and 
honored in political circles, the religiotu 
world had been most congenial to him, 
and here bis death was most deeplj felt 
He who had made all the influence of bis 
high station tribulAry to the cause of 
Christ, and bad honored everj office con- 
ferred on him hy hi* Christian probity, 
was in his ripe old agit suddenly called to 
his rest lie died on Saturday evening, 
May 25rh. 1827, aged 77. ■• His decease 
at this moment," lays the Courier of the 
ennuing wefk, " will cast a gloom over 
the celebrations of numerous religious 
and charitable societies at which he was 
a member or a patron, and whose anni- 
veraaries are held the preswnt week ; " 
and BO indeed it was ; in every meeting 
hU revered name was gratefully repeat- 
ed i every Report paid him a tribute ; 
and every Christian heart was eager to 
pay him aoate hom^e of its own, like the 
glowing eulogy of a writer in the Recor- 
dtr the ensuing week, which closes with 
these words : — 

" That his character is what we have 
represented will appear from tbe testi- 
mony of the widow and the fatherless, 
whom he has rescued from want and 
woe ; ot tbe friends whom bis chanty has 
aided and his counsel blessed ; of tbe al- 
most numberless societies which his gen- 



erality baa Btreogthened, I had almoM 
fOii Mapported ; of the in Etitu lions which 
he has befriended ;'~but they recount his 
deeds of charity. Tbey are generally 
known ; they are appreciated by multi- 
tudes in this world ; they are remeniberBd 
on high ; they will be discloaod to tlM M- 
sembled nniverae at the day of jndgHMat 
His charities have amoothed the fnmwed 
cheek of some who were deecending la 
the grave pen nyleas and friendless. Tbey 
have comtbrted and supported others wit> 
know not, and never will know, till th* 
secrets of all hearts are disclosed, to 
what source they are indebted for tbeSi 
blessings. They have largely contribo- 
ted to the spread of the gospel in haathea 
lands. Tbey have aided in bnildiq 
churches, in circulating Bibles, in edoca- 
tiag pions youth for the gospel minirtij. 

He U not, for God Aoi Udcm him— 
translated, as we humbly trust and fiimly 
believe, from a world of rin and sonow 
and trial, to a heaven of joy and k>*e. 
God of his infiaite mercy grant, that lui 
falling mantle may rest, not on one liaon, 
but on many ; that it may encompaM 
numbers in its folds ; and that a multitude 
may be induced, in imitation of his ex- 
ample, to come up to the help of the Lord 
against tbe mighty." 

How fitting that he should be baried 
amid these anniversary reviews and 
praises, with such Christian Aisociationi 
of every name, to bear his pall, and pi«- 
nounce bis eulogy 1 



1859.] Adaptation of C(mffregatmali»ni for Home MimoM. 841 



THE ADAPTATION OF CONGREGATIONALISM FOR THE WORK 

OF HOME MISSIONS.* 



BT RET. X8BAEL E. DWINELL, JUNIOR PASTOR OF THE THIRD CHURCH, 8ALEH. 



ESKX. iTil : 22-4. <' Thus laith rhe Lord Ood ; I will 
ftlao Ukt* of the ht/hcvt brNOch of the hi^b cedar, 
aod will art it ; I will crop off froin the top of his 
joung twig't A t«nder ooe, Hn<l will plant it upon 
a high m lunitin aud etnineut : In t'le niouo- 
tnfn of the height of IcrAel' will I plant ir ; and 
it nhall bring ftr:h boughK, nud bear fruit, and 
be a goodly cedar; and under it clinll dwell all 
fowl of erery wing; In the «h:idJW ot the brtnch- 
ea thereof shall ihey dwell. And all the tn^s 
of thf field flh.ill know th-tt I the Lord have 
brought down the hiirh tree, have exalted the 
low tree, have dried up the green tree, und have 
made the dry tree ro flourish : I the Lord have 
spoken and hare done it.^' 

We have here, under the 8vmboli«'al 
form which prophecy often assumes, a 
statement of the way in which some new 
development of the kinidom of God be- 
gins and goes on. It refer:* jierh.ips pre- 
eminently to the coming of Christ arid 
the rise and progress of Chrisiianity. 
But the same process repeats itself in 
many subonlinate sections of Christian- 
ity ; reflects itself, with variations, in the 
case of each of the denominations, or 
constituent parts, of the one true Church 
of Christ. Of all these, designed by 
Proviilence for a specific mission, it m.iy 
doubtless be saitl, that they were sepa- 
rated from the vital parts of a previously 
existing section of the Church, as young 
and tender twin's from the top of a cedar; 
were planted in a place where they might 
secure eminence ; were made to bring 
forth boughs, bear fruit, and become 
goodly cedars ; an<l were enlarged and 
blessed, until *' in the shadow of the 
branches thereof" ilwelt ** all fowl of 
every winjr," and '* all the tn-cs of the 
field ** saw and knew that it was the work 
of the Lonl. 

1 shall therefore do no violence to the 



1 A dl.-H;ourse ihliVfred June 28th, 18i/9, in the 
South Church, Pittsfleld, before the Oenvral AsbO- 
cUUon of Massachusetts. 

VOL. I. 44 



principle in the text, which waa to run 
under history and come out in frcqaent 
fulfillments, if I appropriate the words of 
the prophet as describing the history and 
mission of Confrreixationalism in this eoun- 
try, as an in-truraentality designed by 
Go 1 to participate largely in the work of 
its Evangelization. So interpreted, the 
progress of Congregationalism, from its 
small beginnings to its present compara- 
tive maairity, has already been a striking 
fulfillment of the prophecy: ^* I wUl also 
take of the hhjhest branch of the high ce- 
c/r/r, ami will set it : I will crop off from 
the (op nf his ytuog twigs a temler one^ 
ami will plint it upon a high mttuntain 
awl eminent : In the mountain of the height 
of Israel will 1 plant if ; and it shall bring 
forth botKjhs, ami bear fruity and be a 
gonilly Cedar ; and under it shall dwell all 
fowl of everg wing ; ami in the shadow of 
the branches thtreoj shall theg dwell. And 
all the trees of the field shall know that I 
thf^ Lord huie brought duwn the high tree^ 
have ex'tlled the low tree, hare dried up 
the green tree^ and haoe made the dry tree 
to flourish^ 

But the past speaks for itself, and we 
ex|)ect nol)ler things in the future. It 
will therefore be my object lo speak of 
the adaptation of Congregationali.-m for 
fulfilling more perfectly the predictions of 
the text ; in other words, the Adaptation 
of Otngregationtdism fur carrying on the 
II inip. Missionurif work. 

This is a tlicine which now possesses 
pecuiar intcnst. There are indications, 
etai'h y(;ar becoming, not merely pro- 
phetic, but even palpible and certain, 
that the time is not far distant when our 
churches will be left nearly alone to sus- 
tain the operations of the American Home 



342 Ada^platim of Oongre^ 



_M • 



*• 



t f'*l'ljl'l*' 



\fQr Bme MMm^* [Oct 



Missionary Society. Alas that this is so ! 
says my heart, for I love those who have 
cooperated with us. They are good 
Christians and true. I am not slow to 
acknowledge their merits. They have 
showed great largeness of heart, frater- 
nity of spirit, and have made great sacri- 
fices for the common cause. But my 
reason will not sufi'er me to repine ; for I 
know that cooperation was the neces>ity 
and sign of weakness; separation, of ma- 
turity. It is by an instinct, that brothers, 
when young and feeble, are prompted to 
work together and receive counsel and 
assistance from each other; but it is equal- 
ly in obedience to another instinct and 
law of their nature, that they, grown to 
manhood, prefer to separate and set up 
each for himself. 

At the commencement of the coopera- 
tion Congregationalism had not learned 
its expansibility, or rather, did not pos- 
sess it<» present power of expansion. It 
did, indeed, travel in the hearts and 
preferences of its sons, as they went west- 
ward, and it was organized into churches; 
but as its forces are moral forces, and as 
these are weak when they nmst traverse 
great spaces by ftage-coaches and canal 
boats, the secular press mainly, and infre- 
quent correspondence, it was inade(|uate 
to the task of nurturing them and keeping 
them in lively sympathy with itself. Pres- 
byterianism also was weak, but in other re- 
spects ; weak in ability to do the work, — 
a weakness not so much from want of 
ecclesiastical breadth and capacity, as 
from immaturity and want of means. 

During those periods of mutual but 
diflferent weakness, it was the glory of 
both denominations that they could and 
did cooperate — honestly, heartily, suc- 
cessfully ; each, to an extent, supplement- 
ing the deficiencies of the other ; Presby- 
terians furnishing, in over-measure, the 
ecclesiastical channels for the work, and 
Congregationalists, in equal over-propor- 
tion, the men and money. Neither could 
have done the work alone ; the one for 
want of force, the other, of the means of 



intercoarse with its distant childreo. Bat 
they had grace enough to labor together, 
and thus save the whole weak and tender 
Ilome Missionary field from being over- 
lapped and cross-raked and torn by their 
separate denominational efforts, and to rear 
a noble monument, in the 8elf«ustaining 
churches they have raised op, to the glorf 
of God. 

But now Congregationalisn, in reladoo 
to the wants of the whole conn try, is not 
what it was ; for now moral bands are as 
tough across the continent, as fifty yean 
ago they were across the State. Thers 
are now as much oneness and sympathy 
between the Congregationalism of Massa- 
chusetts, and that of Minnesota or Cali- 
fornia, as there were at the time referred 
to, between that in Pittsfield and that in 
Salem. Presbyterianism also feels that it 
has reached its majority, and begins to 
be uneasy, anxious to shake off the ra- 
straints and concessions of weakness, and 
impatient to do its work in its own way. 
Its thews are large and springy; and it 
struggles against the silken c^rds that 
bind it to cooperation ; and every year it 
looks more and more to its own projects, 
and precipitates the inevitable separation. 
Figures are sometimes prophetic. During 
the Society's last year, Presbyterians con- 
tributed about 25 per cent, of the sum 
re< reived, and drew out about 32 per cent 
of the sum distributed. Soon, acc*ordiDg 
to present appearances, the general deci- 
sive voice of the majority in the General 
Assembly will be : Church- Extension ; no 
more coop f ration. 

Both denominations are now, therefore, 
relatively strong, and competent to en- 
gage, each by itself, in the work of Ilome 
Evangelization. Presbyterianism must do 
it. It is with it a fundamental idea that 
the ChuH'h has within itself the capacit}' 
and responsibility of doing the work of 
Christ i)n earth, and that all evangeliza- 
tion and reforms must issue from her 
bosnin and be directed by her moulding 
hand. Self-completeness and separa- 
tion is with it an oi^anic instinct,^ — 



ISoS'.] AiSk^fMkn of O&ngr^foitmtilismfor tibme Missions. 343 



already f^rribly burning in the bones 
of Toung Presbytery, and spreading 
rapidly through the whole denomina- 
tion. And in the event of the withdrawal 
of Presbyterians, Congregationalists also 
must work alone ; but they will be true to 
the American Home Missionary Society ; 
they will not desert that 

Under these circumstances, it cannot 
be untimely, in order to meet the new 
responsibilities which may soon devolve 
upon our churches, to examine calmly, 
not as partisans, but Christians, the adap- 
tation of Congregationalism to the work 
of Home Missions. It has advantages, 
and it has disadvantages ; and we need to 
examine them fairly, in order that, under 
the new order of things which is opening 
before us, we may make as much of the 
one and as little of the other as possible, 
and be prepared for the emergency. 

I shall speak first of the disadvantages^ 
and then of the advantages. 

I. (a) In the first place, then, Congre- 
gationalism has no power in itself ^ as an 
ecclesiastical system^ to perform the work 
of Home Evangelization, It is a conge- 
ries of separate churches, without eccle- 
siastical head or union. Ecclesiastically, 
or authoritatively, it can act only a 
Church at a time, and each Church for 
itself. One Church may indeed do some- 
thing in the missionary work, in its own 
neighborhood, or may send its agents 
abroad. But all such efforts would be 
petty, one-Church efforts; they would 
want the system and wisdom and vigor 
of having been put forth under a common, 
intelligent, superintending eye, and issue 
in general disorder or general neglect. 
It would be but the carrying out of this 
principle, if each Christian should resolve 
himself into an independent foreign mis- 
sionary society. Congregationalism, there- 
fore, has no ecclesiastical capacity to do 
this work ; neither to devise nor direct how 
it shall be done. If, in relation to missions, 
it is a giant, it is a giant without either a 
hand or ah eye. Whatever is done by 
its Mms and daughters for the salvation of 



the country, must be done by them out- 
side of its ecclesiastical ranks or capaci- 
ties, in connection with voluntary and 
independent boards. It cannot do the 
work; it can only let it be done. Con- 
gregationalism ecclesiastically is power- 
less, but this makes Congregationalism, as 
the aggregate of CongregationaHsts, migh- 
ty, as we shall see. 

(b) Again, afler a method of opera- 
tions has been devised and instituted by 
its children as individuals, acting outside 
of its ecclesiastical jurisdiction, Congrega- 
tionalism has no outward bands which it 
throws around its membership, drawing 
them into one loving family, and stimula- 
ting them to act together with one heart 
and will — no general organization, not 
ecclesiastical, but fraternal, in which the 
churches may meet by their representa- 
tives, become acquainted with one anoth- 
er, and be fused into unanimity and hear- 
tiness of cooperation. Our churches, fra- 
ternally and socially considered, do not 
shine as an illuminated city set on a hill, 
in one broad blaze of intermingling light, 
but as so many watch-fires, with interme- 
diate dark spaces, of separate groups en- 
camped as they please around the moun- 
tain of the Lord. They are scattered, as 
sheep sometimes are through a pasture, 
each by itself, following its inclinations, 
little heeding the rest, but unlike them 
having no common shade or fold in which, 
from time to time, they love to assemble, 
showing that afler all they are but one 
flock. We are many flocks — afraid of 
one another, and afraid even to know 
one another in the face ; and here is our 
greatest weakness, the want of harmony 
and concentration of action. Let our 
churches experience the uniting in- 
fluence, which their wise union in Dis- 
trict Conferences, State Conferences, and 
General Conventions, without the least 
particle of authority, would in time exert, 
and their efficiency in any such great 
Christian cause as that of Home Misdons 
would be incalculably increased. This 
would silentiy cause that strength to be 



844 Adaptation of CongregaUonalismfor Home Umiona. [Ocil 

gathered up, directed and saved, too witli «)mp new form of relio:ioo8 lift*, it 

much of which, when the object is good, will, by its own self-circulatinn, take ik 

is now applied to disadvantage, too much up, carry it forwani, and distribute it 

dissipated without object, and too much among tlicm all ; but you must tediouslj 

squandered in narrow and foolish enter- approach and inoculate them one at a 

prises. timit — churches and individuals. We 

(c) And another disadvantnge from have no one soul causing us to hang to- 

which we suflfur is want of e^^prlt df. ctfrps. getlier, but many souls causing us to hang 

By this I do not mean any suL-h sectarian apart ; and many minds, other things be- 

feeling as makes the intercxsts of the de- ing equal, make many works, rather thao 

nomination an end. but a hearty and much work. 

grateful reco;!nition of the denomination, II. Now that, in Fpito of these seri- 
and love of it, as the sphere in wliich ons disadvantages, Congr»»gationaH*m has 
Christ bids us s«rve him. It is Congre- be«'n able to ellect ifomething in the work 
gationalism which under («od has given of Home Missions, nay, to show its.df a 
us our spiritual birth an<l nurture — are- mighty power, it is evident that it must 
ligious training which in most pariicul.irs have rem. irk ible compensating, and over- 
certaiidy is not surpassed. Hut so imper- ba'an.'ing nticanta'/eat for this service, 
ceptibly and modestly has the mother's (a) I mention first, as the (ounddtion, 
influence been exortetl, like the silent the .sense of responsUtUitr/ to Gotl^ which 
forces of air and liizht, that we overlook it awaken-*. All denominations of true 
her, and her other children, and do not Christians possess this characteristic to a 
remember that they are our brothers and large extent, but Congregitioiialists pre- 
sisters. You might almost as well speak eminently, 1 think, — for the simple rea- 
of the c.7>n7 rf<r c^ir/)< of the white popida- son tli.it therein nothing else they can 
tion of the city of New York, as of t!ie feel resp{msible to; not a single, petty 
Congregational chunhes of our country. Church — it is not of importance enough 
There is little attraction or coheren<."e be- to furni.-ih the temptaiion ; nor the de- 
tween them — scarcelv more than between nominition, for that has to them, as we 
them and churches of other kinds. With hive seen, onlv an unreal ami drearov 
each the order is : Christ first, then itself, exisiterue. From the time of their con- 
then the whole body of Christians indis- version to their death, there is nothing, 
criminately. There is no room made tor claiming tht^ >acredness of religion, to di- 
the denomination. We forget, save as a vide or weaken their allegiance ; no spe- 
mere local question of chtirch-member- cious and dazzling object, bearing a holy 
ship, that we are a denominati<m. This look, intervening and entangling their 
fact greatly weakens the anlor and vigor feelings of obligation ; no High Church- 
with which otherwise we should under- istn, crowdinLr out Christ, and substituting 
take and prosecute the enterprises which the Church ; no ex »ggcrated rite or form, 
peculiarly devolve on us. It di'])rives us receiving tmdue importance, and claim- 
of the benefit of an instinct which is in ing excessive service ; no sacenlotal min- 
itself innocent and powerful, and which istry, intercepting or absorbing the re- 
when sanctified is intended by Cod to act sponsibilities of the membership. The 
a prominent part in arousing, uniting, constrience of each member is held bound 
and stimulating his people to labor. Con- directly to the bar of (Jod. The whole 
gregationalism has no j)resi«ling genius or training in the Sablnth school, in the 
soul, pervading all its parts and keeping house of God, and in the Chun h, is to 
them in lively and vitil sympathy with allow nothing to come between the soul 
one another, so that if you touch and and Go<l, the Father, Son and Spirit. It 
secure it in one part, or inoculate it there is a sublime, solenm, inspiring presence, 



1859.] Adaptation of CopgregattonaKsmfor Home Missions. 84 5 



in which such nurture leaves the Individ- 
nal, — far above all churche:*, alldenoiniiia- 
tion-s all earthly intc>restd however chris- 
tened with golly namt's — the pre.'*ence 
of the King of kiti^s. This sense of su- 
preme ri'sinmsibiiity to God has always 
been a m;irki*d characteristic of our peo- 
ple. It has been their habit only to in- 
quire whether a cause were from (jod, 
and if so, to give it a welcome. They 
have endowed academies, colleges, and 
theological seminaries ; furnished profes- 
sors and mini.^ters; and sustained bi*nevo- 
lent enterprises and charities by generous 
gilts of men and money, — outside of tht*ir 
ranks, and had no hesitation, and asked 
no questions, when they had seen (jiod's 
signature on the appeal ; an<l no film of 
prejudice gathered over their eyes, ren- 
dering it difficult for them to read hii 
signature, in such cases. It is probable 
also that there is now no people on earth, 
to whom an appeal, coming from without, 
having no denominational bait, and rest- 
ing purely on its Chri>tian merits, would 
be more welcome, or from whom it would 
receive a readier or heartier response. 
And every Christian minister will bear 
me witness, that he never feels so strong, 
never feels that he has such holil on the 
consciences of our men, never feels that 
he can so move and fire them to deeds of 
Christian enterprise, as when he has car- 
ried them up into the presence of the 
Almighty, and laid Ilis hand upon them. 
And every brother, so trained, will bear 
me witness, that he Teels degraded, as if 
defilement had somehow been passed 
through his whole spiritual nature, when 
a minister thinks it necessary, in orrler to 
secure his cooperation, instead of coming 
down to him from (lod, to approach him 
from beneath, on the earthly side, a[)peal- 
ing to his prejudices, weaknesses, and 
lower interests, connecting him with the 
denomination. 

Now this principle of felt responsi- 
bility to God — underlying and quicken- 
ing, as it does, all right principles in the 
soul in relation to each person of the 



Trinity, its love, faith, hope, trust, sub- 
mission, consecration —is the most power- 
ful and healthful motive in evangelization. 
Nothing else takes so deep and broad a 
gra'^p on the entire will, and so brings it 
into captivity to God, nay, so makes it 
free and mighty in God. All mixed 
motives, tinged with personal, local, sec- 
tarian, or even patriotic or philanthropic 
aims, are powerless in comparison. Let 
this principle take possession of a man, or 
a ^community, or largely of a denomina- 
tion, and there you will see something 
done. The spirit has been touched by a 
spark from the being of God, and the holy 
fire has spread through its whole nature, 
and set it in a blaze ; and now the indi- 
vidual, from the influence of the leaping, 
raging, kindred flame within, must work 
for Ilim. Such a people, if there is work 
to be done, do not wait for others first to 
see it, and then bring it to them. They 
are themselves the first to perceive it, the 
first to undertake it. They are first to 
unfurl the banner of definite organiza- 
tion for Foreign Missions, Home Missions, 
Tract Diwtribution, the cause of the Sailor, 
and of Temperance. They are first to 
rush into any breaeh to which the Master 
points them, crying out to others : come^ 
follow on. And those animated by this 
principle do not weary. They pour out 
life, health, money, like water, year af\er 
year, not in lessening but increasing 
streams, because the fountain is not fed 
by excitement, or sensibility, or stMiti- 
ment, but by a principle, whieh, gushing 
forth, rich and copious, directly from the 
fullness of Jehovah, floods their hearts. 
It is a power of action, a principle, as ex- 
haustless and enduring as the being of 
God. I grant that lower and mixed mo- 
tives, saturated with denominational feel- 
ing, or humanitarianism, or baptized sel- 
fishness, or ambition, may efl>;ct something 
in this cause ; but we cannot expect a 
blessing upon them, as ujion this ; nor 
have they that ring of pure, divine qual- 
ity, which shows that they can be relied 
on amid all emergencies to build up the 



346 Adaptation of OonffregiationaSsmfor Some MSsdons. [Oct. 



spiritual kingdom of Christ No, no ; you 
get nothing strong, nothing salutar}', noth- 
ing reliable, nothing efficient next to the 
Aluiightyf till you get an army of men 
who feel that thev owe their allegiance 
directly to God. 

Congregationalism is far from possessing 
this trait in full ; other denominations pos- 
sess much of it ; but, compared with oth- 
ers, a sense of responsibility to God is yet 
a characteristic of our chuR'hes ; and here 
is the hiding of their power. 

(A) Another advantage of Congrega- 
tionalism is its catholicity. The fact of 
catholicity is obvious. It may be seen in 
the circumstance, so honorable to itself in 
a spiritual point of view, though so waste- 
ful to its outward growth, that the mem- 
bers and resources of no other class of 
Christians have ever melted so readily, 
and in such proportions, into other denom- 
inations. With our people, many of them 
at least, the ChrUtian has ever been the 
first matter in their regards, and the de- 
nomination, not the second, but — no- . 
where. This shows how broad and spir- 
itual is the type of piety which Congrega- 
tionalism inculcates. It is a piety that 
will work with any persons who work for 
Christ ; and a piety that, having begun to 
work with others, will not be the first to 
become sensitive and impatient, and final- 
ly withdraw. Prefereucres it may have, 
and does have, and ought to have, but its 
sympathies are as large as the kingdom of 
Christ, ; and the preferences are precisely 
the things it can sa(?rifice, but the sympa- 
thies it must retain. 

Dilferent reasons have been assijined 
by way of explaining this peculiarity. 
Perhaps we shall reach the real cause 
when we consider two things : How fjreat 
Congre;zationalism makes the Blbh^ and 
how Kmnll the Church. The Bible is the 
book of Congrpgationalists. By this I mean 
that they have no '' book," no creed, no 
standard, no authoritative tribunal, which 
comes between the conscience and the 
word of God, and to which they must 
submit their faith. They have summaries 



of doctrine which they love ; but bold 
them utterly worthless only as they can 
show that they are true to Scriptare. 
They are not authorities but convenien- 
cies. Now, because the whole mind and 
heart of our people are brought pre- 
eminently into contact with inspired truth, 
— the throbbing heart which is employed 
by the Holy Spirit in sending pulses and 
gushes of spiritual life into believers — 
their religious character partakes of its 
broad, pure, and simply Christian charac- 
ter. For Congregationalism does not hide 
its head, ostrich-like, under a single leaf 
of revelation — doctrinal, ritual, or eccle- 
siastical, — and thus cramp itself into ez- 
clusivencss, bigotry or superstition, or ad 
combined, but dwells e(]ually and freely 
under the whole broad shadow of that 
tree whose leaves are " for the healing of 
the nations." The Bible is its shibboleth ; 
not a single wonl or phrase of it Here, 
in part, is the explanation. 

But to this must be added the influence 
of the fact that Contrref^tionalism is com- 
plete in a single Church, and that no two 
of its churches are ecclesiastically con- 
nected, or dependent on a higher tribu- 
nal. Imamne the educating effect of this 
on a people, having no narrow denomina- 
tional dogmas, through a succession of 
generations. A single company of be- 
lievers — that is the extent of the ecclesi- 
astical arena. Who, rowing in so small 
a l)oat, would be likely to cultivate pro- 
fessional pride or ambition, when along- 
side of a Presbyterian, or Episcopal, or 
Weslevan man-of-war with its governed 
ranks and graded ofiicers ? When the 
Congrcgationalist says. He, in any eccle- 
siastical sense, he collapses into a ver}' 
small jHM'sonage. But precisely this thing 
(iod has used to give him one of the 
largest hearts in Christendom. There is 
not enough about his crad to entangle 
his thoughts and sympathies, and hence 
the world be lives in is larger than that 
of the man-of-war. It is the whole ex- 
panse of the heavens above, and the 
whole horizon of water and land around. 



1859.] Adaptatm (tf CongregixtimalUmfar Home Mismm. 347 



He has not motive enough to make him a 
sectarian — unless others make it for him, 
and worry him into it. He is ordained, 
by his system, to be simply a ChrUtian^ 
in a Congregational fold. 

The bearin^i: of this on Home Missions 
is obvious. So far as the movement takes 
character from Congregationalism, the 
type of Christianity it propagates will be 
singularly pure and unsectarian. Its 
special end and mission will be to leaven 
the country with Christianity, not Congre- 
gationalism. Again, it is not involved 
and encumbered with its own private 
sectarian enterprises and proj<^cts, so that 
it can not give of its best strength to this 
work. It has no petty schemes of its own, 
conflicting with the large calls of Chris- 
tian duty, to absorb its energy and em- 
barrass it. It is ready to go into any oi)en 
field in the land, where there will be 
returns to Christ, though none to itself. 
And further, it is not, and will not be, 
the desire of our churches to urge Con- 
gregationalism on sectarian grounds, 
where it is not needed for Christ's sake. 
Individuals may desire this ; but our 
churches, or any consiclerablc number of 
Christians, can not be made to drive 
a denominational wedge when Christ 
has no need of it, and will be deal 
to their appeals. The moon would be no 
more silent and imperturbable, if a dog 
should bay at it to assist it in a foray 
against a tlock o( sheep, than our chunth- 
es would be, if hotspurs should sue them 
to turn aside from the work of Christ, 
and devote their strength to sectarian 
carnage. 

A denomination, therefore, of catholic 
spirit diftuses a noble style of Christian- 
ity ; it goes where there is a call for it ; 
and it has grace enough not to go where 
it is not needed : while a sectarian de- 
nomination trails H baneful influence ; is 
often prt»-0('cu|>ied and can not go 
where good might be done ; and not sel- 
dom obtrudes where Christ does not sum- 
mon it. Sectarianism is cumbernome, 

• 

awkward, weak, in building up the spi- 



ritual kingdom of God. There is a per- 
petual conflict between the real work to 
be done, and the work it is doing. There 
is great misapplication and waste of 
strength. With great vociferation, and 
clatter of machinery, and with a great 
show of chips, it yet does comparatively 
little for Christ. Catholicity, keeping in 
closer sympathy with the kingdom of 
Grod all the way through, starts with more 
real strength, wastes less, effects more 
that will live in eternity, and less that 
will perish. Catholicity is a power in 
Home Missions, and catholicity is char- 
acteristic of our churches. 

(c) I may mention Jiexihility as an- 
other advantage, hy this I do not refer 
to any laxness, or indifference to princi- 
ple or doi'trine — in which respects Con- 
gregationalistsare certainly as staunch and 
reliable as any other class of Christians, 
— but to facility in adapting means to 
ends in building up the kingdom of 
Christ We have seen that Congrega- 
tionalism has no means of carrying on, in 
an ecclesiastical way, this work through- 
out the land. But what it cannot do ec- 
clesiastically, it has no embarrassment in 
attempting through individuals, volunta- 
rily. The ecclesiastical system is per- 
fectly fluent, allowing the members, while 
remaining in it, to flow out into all man- 
ner of voluntary organizations for the 
recovery of the lost. Not only is no re- 
pressive influence exerted by endeavoring 
to make them act only within and through 
itself, but they are ever incited by it to 
go forth and labor outside of it Accord- 
ingly Congregationalism has. practically, 
wondi*rful flexibility and power to meet 
the wants of Christian enterprise. If new 
work is necessary, a new society springs 
up to do it, headed by those whose eye 
has been the quickest to see it, and whose 
conscience to feel it, without waiting till 
the denomination as a body could be 
convinced and persuaded, by a majority 
vote, to engage in it And if an old so- 
ciety proves inadequate or faithless, it is 
simply let alone, and a substitute takes its 



848 AdaptaUoncf Chngreg(dionaUwnfw'H(m$MMiom. [Ocx. 



place, without a rent io the denomination. 
This flexibility in of manifest service in 
the work of Home Evangelization. It 
enables our churc*hes, through one chan- 
nel or another, through some organiza- 
tion, which is at once an eye for them 
overlooking the country, and a hand rea- 
dy to reach out to any extremity or local- 
ity thereof, and minister for them, — to 
apply their effort to the exact want and 
pla(*e where it is needed. It enables them 
thus, not only to bring their relief into ab- 
solute contact with the existing necessity, 
hnt also to vary it with that necessity ; 
and M) to keep abreast of the times, and 
side by side of their changing wants. In 
this particular Congregationalism has great 
superiority over a consolidated denomina- 
tion. Congregationalism in its evanjreli- 
zing operations is ever plastic, overtaking 
form, never formed, changing its methods 
to the changed emergency, and keeping 
step with the march of Providence. Con- 
solidation is heavv and slow, and with 
difTicultv meets a new exijren»'V, and after 
|)nblic sentiment has been slowly treated 
in favor of a new iMiterprise, and the ma- 
jority have decided to engage in it, its 
method, from too great conservatism, 
stiffness, inflexibility of joint, is likely 
soon to fall one side of the a(;e and the 
call of God, and become fruitless. 

Thus the Papacy had swung off from 
the wants of the world at the time of the 
Reformation ; thus the Church of Eng- 
land, from thi» necessities of the masses at 
the rise of Methodism ; and thus Wesley- 
anism is now swervinjr from \\w reli«rious 
demands of New Kngland, and re(juires 
motlitications. Thus modern EpisiM)|)a- 
lianism is constittitionailv one side of 
the popular heart, and has no capability 
of readjustment, and herein, strange to 
say, livjs its power : for it is a religion, save 
in the case of those who have lost their 
place, for those who love to live over and 
over the same religious routine, without 
change or progn^ss, themselves (.'onstitu- 
tionally outside of the religious move- 
ment! of the age, and unwilling to be 



brought into them, — a small and excep- 
tional class alwa^'s. And tbos Presbyte- 
nanism, uninfluenced by Volantaryisoi, 
would have been slow to originate and 
put in operation Church-Extension ; and 
having received the impulse from with- 
out, and started a Home Missionary sys- 
tem, it will continually tend to become 
stereotyped and to fall behind the timefc 

The reason for this diflTerence is obfi- 
ous : Congregationalism has the law de- 
termining its operations in what i$ to be 
(/one; consolidation in itaelf — in what it 
can educate a vast fwi/f/ of men to ayret to 
fio ami can kf.^p them doiufj. Prof. Park 
repeats a remark made by Justin Edwards 
a short time before his death : ** I could 
never have done what I did in the incip- 
ient movements of the Amerii-an Tract 
Societv, nor in the forming of the Ameri- 
can Temperance Society, nor in the es- 
tablishment of the American Sabbath 
Union, unless I had enjoyed the aid of a 
popular and unfettered Church govern- 
ment, allowing me to combine the agen- 
cies of enter|)rising indinduals, whenever 
and wherever I could find them — men 
accu>tomed to act for themselves — minute- 
men, ready for ever}- good work, without 
waiting for the jarring and warring of 
Church courts." — (Address before Cong, 
(Jnion^ 1854.) 

And thus it is that, while consolidation 
will refuse to touch some sins and will 
continually tend to fall behind Providence 
and the necessities of the age, Congrega- 
tionalism, through at least some of its 
foremost men, will grapple with every 
ibrm and feature of public sin, and will 
keep abreast of the times in efforts to 
save our country. 

(d) Still another advantage of Con- 
grejationalism for this service is its ajfin- 
it// with our ciril st/sfcni. The genius of 
our civil svsteni is tint of a nation that 
has grown up uinler the fostering and 
moulding influence ot n ligion, and of this 
reli;:ious element Congregationalism was, 
in, the northern and more enterprising 
and influential section, the original nerra 



1859.] 



ChnffregfotionaSsm far Home 3Suum». 84 9 



and organ. Conprrcgationalism in this 
region, gave birth to the (>tate, and suck- 
led it, and took care of ir, till it was able 
to take care of itself, when a separation 
ensued, and it acted on its own responsi- 
bility. But still, down to the present, a 
certain degree of consanguinity remains;' 
and the civil system of New England is 
largely the civil system of the rest of the 
States, especially in the North. Now 
there was doubtless a providence, for the 
religious good of our country, in causing 
the most vijrorous centre of Conjire- 
gationalism to be at the same time 
the most vigorous and controlling centre 
of the civil life of our <'Ountrv, — so that 
there should be a peculiar sympathy be- 
tween our form of Christianity and the 
secret tides and movements, the spiritual 
currents, the most potent of all, of our 
civil system. From this cause, besides 
the fact that Congregationalism will 
ever}'whcre meet those who have been 
more or less trained under its influence, 
it will flow with special ease through the 
congenial channels which the beckoning 
genius of the state opens to it. Freedom, 
who still reigns in the North, and has 
loving children there everywhere, not 
only welcomes, but greets it as preeminent- 
ly an efficient agent under (jod of giving 
to her her supremacy, and maintaining it. 
Congregationalism, therefore, is peculiarly 
adapted to meet the wants of the inde- 
pendent, daring, liberty-loving men of 
the West. Th»'y may, they will, in large 
numbers fall into other channels or ranks, 
but it will be from prejudice, or necessity, 
or with protestations, or ultimately with 
forceful modifications of those systems. 
The spirit of the West and the spirit of 
Congregationalism, from their natural, 
consanguineous alliance, ever tend to re- 
embrace each other. The growing and 
vigorous sections of our country are wait- 
ing lor our help ; and this is another ele- 
ment of our power. 

Now, when to all these we add the ob- 
yions considerations — not so remote as 
fruits from the genius of our system as 

▼OL. I. 45 



might at first be supposed, — that God has 
given us in New England the meamt of 
educating a larger number of men than we 
have professional openings for, and has 
bestowed much wealth and more thrift on 
our churches — considerations which need 
only this passing glance — the catalogue is 
complete. 

Such, then, are some of our advanta- 
ges for prosecuting Home Missions : first, 
a sense of Responsibility directly to God — 
this furnishes the motive power; then, 
Catholicity — this secures the right dispo- 
sition lor the work; then Flexibility — 
this gives access to the exact service 
needed ; then. Affinity — this causes us to 
be met with special welcome from the 
field; and finally, Providential Ability for 
the work. Do not these things show, my 
hearers, that God designs that, as we have 
had, so we should have, a large mission to 
perform for the salvation of our coun- 
try V Are they not to bo interpreted in 
the light of a voice of God to us, calling 
us to redouble our faith, our hope, our 
sacrifices ? 

We have, to our hand, a Society, well 
organized and tried, perfectly adapted to 
our wants, through which we may engage 
in this work. It suits us, because it is 
not a Congregational society, nor a secta- 
rian society. A majority in all its de- 
partments of manag»*ment are Presbyte- 
rians. But it is catholic and intensely 
Christian ; and therefore it meets the de- 
mands of Congregationalism perfectly. It 
is intelligent, wise, efficient; having the 
wide-seeing eye, and the prompt and vig- 
orous hand. 

Moreover, through its auxiliaries, or 
more directly, through its own agents and 
missionaries, it is adapted to reach, and 
designs to perform, the exact work which 
is needed in the destitute regions of the 
land. 

What every unevangelized community 
needs is a self-supporting Church. This 
is the unit, or elementary whole, of the 
kingdom of God. Till the self-support- 



360 



(^ureheB md Mbntten m Windhqm fib, CL [Oos. 



ing Chorch is secured, a whde germ of 
that kingdom does not exist, io any par- 
ticular locality. There may be Bibles 
there, and the evangelist, and a number 
of Christians, but these, though prepara- 
tions, are an incomplete genu. They 
strike no root into the soil, furnish no gua- 
ranty' that Christianity will perpetuate it- 
self there. They float about on the sur- 
face, till they reach an organization and 
take root and become self-supporting, or 
are dispersed by the winds. Now the 
self-perpetuating Church — the unit of the 
kingdom of God, the whole germ of the 
living gospel — it is the special and pecu- 
liar office of the American Home Mission^ 
ary Society to secure. This is not the 
work of the Bible Society, nor ol the 
Tract Society, nor of the Sabbath School 
Society, nor of the Education Society, 
nor of the College Society, but it is of 
this. It sends the minister to the proi)er 
field ; and not only a minister, but an 
educated one ; and not only this, but one 
who bears with him, and is able to trans- 
fuse, by the Divine blessing, into others, 
a love of sound doctrine and all the in- 
stitutions of the gospel : and it maintains 
him there, in whole or in part, till a self- 



supporting Church risefl oat of llie deso- 
lation — a church trained to know and 
defend its faith, and to meet the morali 
intellectual, and doctrinal conditions of 
permanence. The .-Imencon Ilome MU- 
sionary Society is the mother of such 
churches. It plants Christianity, It 
causes the gospel to strike root. Of all 
the churches belonging to the two de- 
nominations hitherto acting through this 
institution in Ohio, and west and north, 
west of it. about 96^ per cent have 
been nursed by its maternal care 
and more than 60 per cent have been 
trained up to independence. And now, 
in execution of the same mission, it is 
plunging into the wilds of Kansas and 
Nebraska, and leaping the Rociky Moun- 
tains and the Sierra Nevada — everywhere 
leaving behind it the living, throbbing, 
permanent centres of the gospel. 

Such is the organ through which we 
are permitted to work. We will love it ; 
we will be true to it; we will sustain it, — 
be(*aus(i we believe that it loves Christ 
more than it loves us. And we will weep 
when others leave it ; but we will t/o the 
more. 



CONGREGATIONAL CHURCHES AND MINISTERS 

IN AVINDHAM COUNTY, CT. 



BY KEY. UOBEKT C. LEARNED, BERLIN, CT. 



(Continued 

Brooklyn. — This town was incorpor- 
ated May, 1786, the territory being taken 
out of the towns ot'Mortlake, Pomfret and 
Canterbury. It wag made the shire town 
in 1819, instead of Windham. The Church 
in this town was tbnned Nov. 21, 1734, 
being then the South Chiinh in i^omfret, 
and sometimes known as the Church in 
Mortlake. 

The several pastors of this Churth have 
been as follows : 



BPHKAm Atut, 

JofUB VTaRiin, 



..Ord. Sept. 24, 1785 

• 0.t. 20, 1754 

..Ord. F«b. 4, 1766 

• 8«pt.ia, im 



from p. 270.) 

LUTBKB WiLMR Ord. JoiM 9, IMS 

DU. r«b. 6i 1817 

AMRaosB KD80K, Ord. April 14, 18M 

Dis. Dm. 25, 1830 

QiOROK J. TiLLorrroK, Ord. Majr 26, 1881 

DIji. Mtf. 10, 1«S 

Rev. Kphraim Avf.uy was the son of 
Rev. John Avery, of Truro, Ms. ; bom in 
1712; crraduated fl. C. 1781, and A. M. in 
(course, lie seems to have bt*en resident 
at Cambri(l<re, when the people of Mort- 
lake sent for him. He eam^* to them in 
January, 1735; was ini'ited to settle by 
the Society in April, and by the Church 
in July, and ordained Sept. 24, on which 
occasion his father preached fixxn 9 Tim. 



1859.] dkurehes mid Ministers in J^dham 06,, d. 361 



ii : 1, " Th6a therefore, my son," &c. The 
charge thus received Mr. Avery retained 
until Oct. 20, 1754, when he died of dys- 
entery, in the 42d year of his age. With- 
in aboat two months seventy persons died 
in that parish, chiefly of the same disease, 
which was also prevalent and malignant 
in adjacent towns. Mr. Avery's funeral 
sermon was preached by Rev. Mr. Devo- 
tion, of Scotland, a near neighbor and in- 
timate acquaintance, and from this (as 
pubtished) the following extract is made : 

'* As to his natural endowments, he was 
calm, peaceable, patient, open-hearted, 
ftiee of access, sociable, hospitable, cheer- 
fhl, but not vain; capable of unshaken 
fHendship ; not a wit, but very judicious ; 
not of the most ready and quick thought, 
but very penetrating ; capable of viewing 
the relations of things, comparing of them, 
and drawing just conclusions from th^." 

Mr. Avery's ministry was not a little 
disturbed by the Separatical movement 
In 1 742 a letter was sent to the Church 
by 26 persons, signifying their withdrawal. 
These were dealt with by the Committee 
of six, to whom the Church had entrusted 
the management of discipline, and af\er 
sundry meetings of Consociation and 
Councils, those who remained incorrigible 
were excommunicated in 1746. Mr. 

Avery married Deborah , and had 

eight children, of whom some died young ; 
one daughter married Rev. Mr. Putnam, 
of Pomfret, and another married John 
Brewster, of Hampton. Mr. Avery's wid- 
ow married Gardiner, and after bis 

death, Gen. Israel Putnam, and died in 
1 777, at her husband's headquarters in the 
Highlands, and was buried in Beverly 
Robinson's family vault. 

Rev. JosiAH WuiTNEY was bom at 
Flainfield, Aug. 11, 1731, son of Col. Da- 
vid and Elizabeth Whitney; was grad- 
uated Y. C. 1 752 and A. M. in course ; 
studied theology probably with Rev. 
Robert Breck, of Springfield, Ms.; was 
licensed by Hampden Association, July, 
1754 ; began to preach at Mortlake (now 
Brooklyn), Sept 1755, and was ordained 



Feb. 4, 1756. This charge he retained 
over 68 years, even till his death, Sept 
13, 1824 ; though before this time he had 
two colleagues successively settied with 
him. He was therefore for many years 
the patriarch of the clergy in Windham 
County, and was highly respected and 
esteemed by them and among the churches 
generally. He was a Fellow of Tale 
College, and in 1802 received the degree 
of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard Col- 
lege. His theological views were of the 
moderate stamp prevalent among the men 
of his time ; yet when the occasion came 
he showed himself no Unitarian. 

He was noted among his own people for 
a certain dry wit of a pleasant nature 
which appeared often in his conversation. 
His manners were affable, though dig- 
nified, and his intercourse with his people 
pleasant, even in his extreme old age, 
except as it was disturbed by the division 
that took place under the ministration of 
his first colleague. 

Dr. Whitney published in 1763 a ser- 
mon at the ordination of Ezra Weld of 
Braintree, Ms. ; in 1 788 an Election Ser- 
mon ; in 1790 a funeral sermon for Gen. 
Putnam (who was a member of Dr. Whit- 
ney's church) ; in 1 795 a ftineral sermon 
for Rev. Noadiah Russell; in 1800 a fu- 
neral sermon for Eunice Gee ; in 1806 a 
half-century sermon ; in 1813 (when he 
was 83 years old) a funeral sermon for 
Rev. Aaron Putnam. 

Dr. Whitney married in 1756, Lois 
Breck, daughter of Rev. Robert Breck, 
of Springfield, by whom he had eleven 
children, of whom all but two or three 
daughters died young. His wife died in 
1 789, of consumption, and he married in 
1791 Wid. Anna (Paine) Chandler, who 
died in 1811. 

Rev. Luther Wilson was bom at 
New Braintree, Ms. ; graduated W. C. 
1807, and A. M. ; was ordained at Brook- 
lyn, June 8, 1813, and dismissed Feb. 5-7, 
1817, by Consociation on charge of here- 
sy, he having adopted Unitarian views. 
He was afterward settied as a Unitarian 



852 



Churehei and Ministers in Windham Oo^ Ct. 



[Oct 



pastor in Petersham, Ma., being installed 
there June 23, 1819, where he remaintd, 
as pastor, until 1832 ; he is still hvin^r at 
that place. Ilis ministry in Brooklyn 
was a short and troubled one, and re- 
sulted (like so many in Massachu- 
settfi, but no other in Connecticut) in the 
separation of the Orthodox Church from 
a majority in the Society, thus leaving 
the old house of worship in Unitarian 
hands. Against this majority Dr. Whit- 
ney, the senior pastor, brought a successful 
suit for salary. 

Mr. Wilson published in 1817, lie- 
marks on a Sermon of Rev. Willard Pres- 
ton, of Brooklyn; in 1818 a Review of 
ecclesiastical proceedings at Brooklyn, 
and in 1825 a sermon at the ordination of 
Rev. Sumner Lincoln, of Cianlncr, Ms. 

A son of Mr. Wilson, Rev. Edmund B. 
Wilson, graduated at the Cambridge Di- 
vinity School in 1843, and subsequently 
received the degree of A. M. ; he was re- 
cently dismissed from his pastorate over 
the Unitarian Societv in West Roxhurv, 
Ms., (the one at the western part of the 
town,) and was installed over the North 
Church and Society in Salem, Ms. 

Rev. Amkrosk Edjson was born at 
Brimficld, Ms., Dec. 1797, but the laniiiy 
moved to StafTonl when he was vouuir, 
where he received his early training in 
the family of Capt. Daniel Peck. He be- 
came hopefully converted when about 18 
years of age and soon turned his attention 
to the work of the ministry. By great 
exertions he procured the means ot a j)re- 
paratory education at Monson, Ms. lie 
went to Princeton with the view of enter- 
ing College, but by advice of others en- 
tered the Seminary instead. Having 
passetl through the usual course he was 
licensed, and on the 14 th of April, 1824, 
ordained over the Church in Brooklyn. 
The sermon by Rev. Dr. Ely was [)ublish- 
ed. His ministry here was blessed to the 
hopeful conversion of a large number, but 
chiefly for want of health he was dismissed 
Dec. 25, 1830. In May following he was 
called to settle in Worthington parish, 



Berlin, where he was installed on the 15Ch 
of June, 1831. Here also a revival ac- 
companied his ministry, and here his 
health be(*ame so much impaired that he 
was di.^missed Nov. 11, 1834, and died at 
Somers, Aug. 1 7, 183G. During his feeble 
health he published .several bookt<, among 
which were *' The Key Stone," '* Edson's 
Letters to the Conscience," and the *' Me- 
moirs of Charlotte Hamilton." T\\ft*^ 
books exhibit the mind and heart of the 
author as intent on the spiritual benefit of 
his fellow-men, and were esteemed useful 
in their day. 

He married, May 10, 1824, Miranda E. 
Hamilton, daughter of Dr. H. A. Hamil- 
ton, of Somers. 

Rev. Geouge J. TiLJ.OTsoN was bom 
in Farmington, was graduated Y. C, 
1824, and A. M. ; is now a Fellow of the 
College ; was ordained at Brooklyn, May 
25, 1831, and continued in that relation 
till dismissed, March 10, 1858, being at 
the time the longest pastorate in the 
county. He is now supplying the church 
at Putnim. 

He married (1) Rebecca Wilkinson, of 
Putnam; (2) II irriet Seymour, of Hart- 
lord ; (3) Elizabeth Lester, of PlainGeld, 
but is now for the third time a widower. 



The town of Canterbury was incor- 
porated October, 170.S, the territory being 
taken from Plainfield and lying mostly on 
the West side of Quinebaug river. It is 
mainly an agricultural town, having some 
fine tarnis along the river. It has two 
churches in two local parishes. The Jtrsi 
has its house of worship on a "Green" 
upon a pleasant hill very near the Quiue- 
bau<:, and includes some families on the 
Plainfield side of the river. The stcond 
parish lies on the higher land in the W'est- 
ern part of the town, and bears the Iwal 
name of Westminster. 

The ClIUKCH IN THE FlHST SoCIETY 

was constituted June 13, 1711, with seven 
members, «// males. The first among the 
seven being the minister who had preach- 
ed to them for some years and who waa 



1859.] ChurcJies and Ministers in Windham Co.^ Ct. 353 

on that day ordained Pastor. The sue- graduated H. C. 1 72d« was *' called " at 

cession has been as follows : — Canterbury Jan. 1 729, and ordained Sept. 

Samuu. EiTABaooK, Oni. June 18, 1711 3, 1729, accepting a salary of 110 pounds 

• J un« 20, 1727 • i ", ,. ^ i i 

JoHH Wadsworth, Ord. s«.pt. 3,1729 per annum with 150 pounds settlement. 

DU. May 27, 1741 Jn thin fharjre he remained until May 27 

Jamu CooswiLL, Ord. Dei?. 28, 1744 ,.,.,,,' , . . r 

Diit. Nor. 6. 1771 1741, when he proposed '* by the Leave* 

Solomon MoRaAn, J."^' S**'^' ^' }1^? Charifv and Love of the Ch*h,to resign 

Di8. Mar. — 1<97 . ' *' 

0«oRoi Leo.xari>, Ord. Feb, «, 18(>8 his charj^e, and the Chunrh did vote to 

^ „ I^"*: ;^"«- ??' 1^!^ accept of tlie same." The occasion of this 

Asa Much Infit.Oct. 28, 1812 ■ . 

Di» May 3, 1822 precipitate withdrawal was a charge of 

Teo«A. J. Mo«.c«, i„.t.No,. 20, 1822 j^^^^^, ^.^^juct broujiht against Mr. 

Jamib R. WflKuocK, Inst. Dec. 20, 1827 Wadsworth. 

Dis. April 8, 1S29 r,,, , ^ j ^ l« 

DoKii PLiTT, ln«t.MHr. 81, 1880 ^^^ ex-pastor returned to his native 

Di«. Jan. 1, 1883 home, and there spent most of his remain- 

Di*. Jan. 17 1837 *'^ef years on his paternal acres. He is 

Charlbs J. \Vakri5, Inst. Sept. 13, 1887 believed to have officiated occasionally as 

DLi. April 1, 1S40 ... 1 * u • * 1 • -.La 

WALTRR CLARRR, Ord. M«y 18, 1842 * ™«nister, and to have visited, in that 

D.«. M«y 23, 1845 capacity, Coos, N. H. He died at Milton, 

Robert C. Lea RMCD, Inst D^. 22, 1847 T..«« i\ i -pr 'r.A.i:»:^» ««,.« ♦k .#. k:o 

Di«. Nor. 8 1868 ""'^^ ^^» wOo. Irauition says that his 

Charleh p. ORoifBNOB, lust. Mur. 9, 1859 death took place in the pulpit, imme- 

Rcv. Samuel Estabrook was born diately after he had read a hymn contain- 

at Concord, Ms., Jan. 7, 1674, the son of ing this verse :— 
Rev. Joseph and Mary (Mason) Esta- - UoFanna, with a cheerful tound, 

J^ 1 '^^ God'8 upholding band ; 

brook. He was graduated H. C. 1696, Ten thousand «nare« bewit u^ round, 

and after preaching awhile in Canter- Andyets^rcure we stand." 
bury, was ordained on the same day that Rev. James Cogswell was bom at 
the Church was constituted, June 13, Saybrook, Jan. 6, 1720, son of Samuel 
1711. He continued the exercise of his and Anne Cogswell, but during childhood 
ministr}' here until his death, June 26, removed with his parents to Lebanon. 
1727. His gi'avestone (which gives the He was early distinguished by his love of 
date of his death as the 23d of June,) science and his conviction of the truth of 
speaks of him as '' reverend, pious and Christian doctrine. He graduated Y. C. 
learned." Mr. Estabrook published an 1742, was A.M. in course, and in 1790 
Election Sermon preached in 1718, from received from his Alma Mater a Doctorate 
1 Tim. ii : 2. of Diviuity. He was approved as a can- 
He married, March 23, 1 71 3- 14, 'Rebec- didate by the Association of Windham 
ca,the daughter of Rev. Nehemiah Hobart, County, May 5, 1 744, and was at the 
of Newton, Ms., — and had Nehemiah, who same meeting mentioned to a committee 
settled in Mansfield, — Hobart, who be- from Canterbury as a suitable person to 
came a pastor in Millington, and Mary, be employed there. Here his preaching 
Mrs. Rebecca Estabrook (called on her was received with favor by a majority of 
gravestone a " worthy, virtuous and pious the people, but the more zealous separated 
gentlewoman"), followed her husband from the parish and held their meetings in 
quickly to the grave, dying Dec. 4, 1727, a private house. The Consociation met 
aged 47. for his ordination Dec. 26, 1744, and on 
Rev. John VVadswoutii was born at the 28th ordained him as ** a minister to 
Milton, Ms., Aug. 6, 1 703, son of Dea. the Society and those Christian people 
John and Elizabeth ( Vose) Wadsworth, who had called him and should willingly 
and grandson of Capt. Samuel Wads- put themselves under his care." A part 
worth, who fell at Bloody Brook. He of the Church, claiming to be the minority, 



354 



Ckurches and MuMers in Windham Oo.y Ct. [Oct. 



reje(;ted this decision, and continned from 
this time throagh many years a separate 
organization. The charge, thus commit- 
ted to Mr. Cogswell, he retained for near- 
ly 27 years, approving himself to the con- 
sciences of good men in hi:t difficult posi- 
tion. The circumstance which led to his 
dismission, Nov. 5, 1774, are not clearly 
understood, though it may have been con- 
nected with the division of the parish by 
the formation of Westminster Society. 

From Canterbury Mr. Cogswell re- 
moved to Scotland, a parish in the neigh- 
boring tovm of Windham, where he was 
installed Feb. 16, 1 772. Here he labored 
over 32 years, until, in December, 1804, 
the infirmities of age having unfitted him 
for longer toil, he removed to the house 
of his son, Dr. Mason Fitch Cogswell, a 
distinguished physician of Hartford, where 
he died Jan. 2, 1807, nearly 87 years of 
age. A funeral sermon by Dr. N. Strong, 
de:«cribes him as ** learned, social, benev- 
olent, submissive." 

Dr. Cogswell published six sermons on 
various occasions. He married (1) Alice 
Fitch, of Canterburj', April 24, 1 745, — 
(2) Mrs. Martha Devotion, the widow of 
his predecessor in Scotland, and (3) Wid- 
ow Irena Hebard, May 5, 1797. By his 
first wife he had five children, all of 
whom died in youth, except the one al- 
ready mentioned. 

Rev. Solomon Morgan was born at 
Groton, and baptized Manrh 24, 1745, the 
son of Dea. Solomon and Mary (Wal- 
worth) Morgan. He had probably only 
an ordinar}' English education. In March, 
1772, he was called to settlement by a 
newly formed Church in Nazareth Soci- 
ety, Voluntown, to whom he had been 
preaching, and was atrconlingly ordained 
April 15, 1772. In this charge h« re- 
mained until dismissed, at his repeated 
desire, Feb. 26, 1 782, " the people being 
grieved at their loss." Mr. Morgan sup- 
plied the church of Plainfield and Canter- 
bury by turns in the years 1782-3, and 
in both places received some advance 
toward letdement He was finally in- 



stalled at Canterbury, Sept SO, 1 784, and 
in this office did the work of a healer, 
being partially snccessfol in an attempt 
to re-unite the Separatists to the Old 
Church. Even those who held them- 
selves aloof from such a union, employed 
him to preach in their house of worship a 
part of the time. Troubles arose, howev- 
er, in his own parish, from the efforts of 
some to introduce heretical preachers, in 
consequence of which Mr. Morgan was 
dismissed in March, 1797. He was once 
more setded, June 6, 1798, over the 
Church in North Canaan, where he died 
Sept. 3, 1804, aged 60. While in this 
last charge, he spent nine weeks during 
the winter of 1802-3 in North-western 
Vermont as a mis:fionary. Tradition re- 
ports him a tall, awkward man, of deficient 
learning, but good natural abilities. 

He married (1) Eunice, daughter of 

Park Avery, and (2) Wid. Haskell, 

the mother of the late Pres. Haskell of 
the University of Vermont He had some 
nine children, whose hbtory has not been 
followed successfully to any great degree. 

Rev. Gkouor Leonard was born in 
Middleborough, Ms., April 6, 1783, the 
son of Elkanah and Sarah Leonard. He 
studied with Rev. Daniel Gumey of his 
native town, — entered Brown University 
in 1801, but removed to Dartmouth Col- 
lege, where he graduated in 1805, and 
was A. M. in course. He studied Theol- 
ogy with Rev. Dr. Perkins of West Hart- 
fonl, was called to settle in Canterbury, 
Nov. 1807, and was ordained Feb. 3, 
1808. Some dissatisfaction was felt by 
part of the Church with what they es- 
teemed the Arniinianism of Mr. Leonard, 
and this i'act probably conspired with his 
ill health to lead him to seek a dismission, 
which took place Aug. 29, 1810. After 
this he preached for short periods in vari- 
ous places in Massachusetts, but in 1817 
was ordained Deacon in the Episcopal 
Church, and in June, 1818, was admitted 
Priest by Bishop Griswold at Marblehead, 
Mass. He then took charge of Trinity 
Church, Cornish, N. H., and St Panl'ii 



1859.] Gkurehet and ASmstera in Windham Co., Ct. 



356 



Windsor, Vt, and continued Rector of 
both parishes till his death. This took 
place June 28, 1834« at the house of a 
sister in Salisbury, N. H., while he was 
journeying for his health. He was buried 
near where he died. An obituary notice 
describes him as ** the disinterested and 
judicious councillor, the open-hearted and 
honest man, and the sincere Christian.*' 

He publbhed an Election Sei*mon in 
1808, and several others. 

He married Nov. 6, 1832. Mary D. 
Chase, of Corni^h, N. H., who survived 
him without children. 

Rev. Asa Meech was born in Boston, 
April 20, 1775, the son of Thoma^^ Meech. 
He was not e<lucated at College, but in 
1807 received an honorary degree from 
Brown University. He was approved as 
a candidate by New London Co. Asso- 
ciation, May« 1 799, and ordained at North 
Bridge water, Ms., Oct. 15, 1800, as col- 
league pastor with Rev. John Porter. 
His ministry here was brought to a close 
in 1811 by some unpleasant differences 
among the people. He was installed in 
Canterbury, Oct 28, 1812, and here con- 
tinued till the spring of 1822, prea(;hing 
his farewell sermon on the 5th of May. 
His ministry here was useful not only by 
increasing the number of the Church, but 
by establishing its faith and order, then 
threatened by enemies within and without 
the parish. Towanis the close of his pas- 
torate, however, a feeling of personal op- 
position arose, which rendered his remo- 
val expedient He emigrated to Canada, 
where he purchased a large farm near 
Hull, and employed himself thencetorch in 
its cultivation, pre<iching at the same time 
as opportunity wis offered. He died 
there Feb. 22. 1849, at thr age of 74. 

He published three sermons, one of which 
was that preached on leaving Canterbury. 

He married (1) Mary l>e Witt, of Nor- 
ifich, April 29, 1802 ; (2) Maria De Witt, 
Nov. 1809; (3) Margaret Dotkstader, 
Nov. 7, 1822, and had by the.se three 
wives twenty-one children, of whom the 
forvivors live in Canada. 



Rev. Thomas Jrwrtt Murdock was 
born at Norwich, Vt, Nov. 27, 1790, the 
son of Col. Constant and Sarah (Jewett) 
Murdock. He graduated D. C. 1812, 
and was A. M. in course, — remained a 
Tutor in his Alma Mater from 1813 to 
1816, — closed a theological course at An- 
doverin 1818, — was ordained at Portland, 
Me., Sept. 29, 1819, colleague pa.stor with 
Rev. Elijah Kellogg in the Chapel 
Church, now dissolved. Having been 
dismissed thence March 21, 1821, he was 
installed at Canterbury Nov. 20, 1822, 
and here remained till his death. This 
occurred Dec. 15, 1826. after an acute 
and distressing illness, and amid the great 
grief of his parishioners and brethren in 
the ministry. He was buried among his 
people, and a sermon delivered by Rev. 
Levi Nelson from Acts xx : 38, — " Sor^ 
roinlny most of all,** &c. 

He married (1) Alice Amelia Adams^ 
daughter of Prof. Adams of Dartmouth 
College; (2) Lucia K., daughter of Hon. 
Thos. Thompson ; (3) Frances Jacobs 
Farrand, who after his death married 
John A. Richardson, Esq., of Durham, 
N. H. By his second wife he had one 
daughter, since married and dead. 

Mr. Murdock is reported by all who 
knew him to have been one of God*s no- 
blest sons, — '* a model of a man, a scholar, 
a Christian and a Minister." 

Rev. James Ripley Wueelock was 
born at Hanover, N. H., 1770, the son of 
James Wheelock, Esq., youngest child of 
Pres. Eleazar Wheelock, — grailuated D.C. 
1807, — ^studied law and established him- 
self in its practice at Royalton, Vt. ; but 
changing his views, studied Theolo<!y with 
Rev. Dr. Merrill, of Middlebury, Vt, and 
was ordnined pastor in Newport, N. H., 
Dec. 2, 1818, from which charge he was 
dismissed Feb. 21. 1823. He was next 
installed at Lancaster, N. H., Jan. 28, 

1824, but W/iS dismissed thence in Jan. 

1825. After preaching awhile in Nor- 
wich, Vt, he was settled at Canterbury, 
Dec. 20, 1827, amid some opposition, 
which caused his dismission April 8, 1889* 



856 



Ckurehe9 and Mmsters m Wmdham Oo^ (X. 



[Oct. 



His next field of labor was Indiana, Granby and in Gieenville (Norwich) Mr. 
whence he returne<l about 1H36 with Piatt removed to Homer, N. Y., where he 
health much impairel and ben>aved of wa** installed piistor, March 12, 1834. 



three children, lie was n^ain M'ttled in 
Barre, Vt, Sept. 20, 1838. but in 1889 
obtained a di.smi.*«sion in conserjucnce of 
his wife's death and his own shatterecl 
condition. He was never again settled, 
thoufyh be preached for a year or two 
longer in various places in N«'W H;imp- 
shire and Maine. At len^rth hnvinnr given 
up ail hope of prosecuting ministerial la- 
bor, he reiired to Milton, Ms. in the fall 
of 1841. Fcelinsf himself better in No- 
▼eml>er, he went to Boston with the hope 
of maintaining himself by writing, but 
was immediately prostrated and died Nov. 
26, 1841, at the Pearl St. House, Boston, 
— " happy to leave a world, to him so full 
of sorrow/* 

Mr. Wheelocrk married (1) Feb. 10, 
1819, a daughter of Dr. Wm. Bass, and 

(2) about 1830. His second 

marriage proved unfortunate through some 
want of adajitation in the parties, and led 
Mr. Whcelo<*k to the adoption of some 
peculiar views on the stibjects of marriage 
and divonre, wliirh he is believed to have 
published in tract form. Some children 
by his first wife survived him. He left 
behind him the reputation of a faithful 
and earnest preacher. 

Rev. Oknxis Platt was born Sept. 
26, 1800, in Danbury (Betliel Society,) 
a i'on of Ebenezer Platt, — graduHtt'd Y. 
C. 1824, — tau«rht a F»Mnale Seminarv in 
New London, — studied Ther)l<)gy with 
Rev. Edward W. Hooker, and at Yale 



Dismissed thence Sept 1842, he waf 
again in.stalled at Manlius, N. Y., Nov. 1, 
1842. Dismissed again May 1845, be 
was for a time Editor of the Refigioug i2e-> 
cortler at Syracuse; but in Sept 1846 re- 
moved to Binghampton, where he was 
pastor of the Cong. Church until the win- 
ter of 1 H53. Since that time he has been 
chierty employed on behalf of the Society 
for Collegiate and Theological Educa- 
tion, residing at South Norwalk, Ct 

Mr. Platt married Caroline, daughter 
of Jabez D wight, of New Haven, and has 
had five children, of whom two survive. 

He has issued a Tract on Baptism and 
articles in periodicals. 

Rev. Charles Jar vis Warren was 
born in Boston, Ms., Aug. 3, 1796, — spent 
his earlier life at Sutton, — studied under 
Rev. Mr. Cobb, of Taunton, — graduated 
B. U. 1826,— studied Theology with Mr. 
Cobb, and was ordained pastor of the 
First Church in Attlcboro', Ms., Feb. 28, 
1828. Dismissed thence July 8, 1830, he 
supplie<l awhile in Plymouth, then was 
settled in South Weymouth, Ms., Jan. 1, 
1833. In the following year, Aug. 13, he 
was dismissed, and opened a »chool in 
Brooklyn, N. Y. He was installed at 
Welhersfield, July 1, 1835, as colleague 
witli Rev. Dr. Tenney, and dismissed Feb. 
1, 1837, — next was installed at Canter- 
bury, Sept. 13, 1837, and dismissed April 
1, 1840, to berouie an Agentof the Am. 
Teni[)erance Union. 

Theol. Seminary ;— began preaching in Since this time he has been constantly 

18-8 asL a missionary in the villag»» of engaged in some department of the Tem- 
Willimantic, in Windham, where he or- perance work, holding of late an appoint- 



ganized a Chunh an<l secure«l the erec- 
tion of a meetinjT-house, — was onlained 
an Evangelist at North Coventry in the 
spring of 1829, — removed to Canterbury 
in Jan. 1830. and was installed March 31. 
Here a powerful awakening greatly en- 
larged the Church, but stirred some oppo- 
sition, which led to Mr. Platt*s dismi.ssion, 
Jan. 1, 18S8. After preaching awhile in 



ment in the Police Department of the 
City of New York. He h<is published 
several pami)hlets, mostly on Free Ma- 
sonry and Tcmperani.'c. 
Mr. Warren is marriiul auil has children.* 
Rev. Walteu Clark k was born at 
Farmington ; graduated Y. C. 1837 : 
taught for a while in Waterbury, and in 

1 S$* Hist, of Mjtndon Istocitaion hjf Rtp, ML JSRfaifa. 



1869.] 



Mortuary StaiisHes. 



357 



Mobile, Ala.; was ordained pastor at 
Canterbury, May 18, 1842, and dismissed 
May 23, 1845, to take charge of the South 
Church in Hartford, where he was in- 
stalled June 4, 1845. He was dismissed 
thence in the spring of 1854 to take 
charge of the Mercer St Church, New 
York city, where he is now pastor. He 
received the I>octorate of Divinity at 
Williams College in 1855. 

He married (1) Mary Ann Clark of 
Waterbury in 1839, and (2) Elizabeth G. 
Terry, daughter of Hon. Seth Terry, of 
Hartford, in 1850. He has one son liv- 
ing, — has published various sermons. 

Kev. Robert Coit Learned was 
born at New London ; graduated Y. C. 
1837 ; studied Theology at New Haven 
and Andover; was ordained pastor at 
Twinsburg, Summit Co., O., Sept 23, 
1843, and dismissed May, 1846 ; was in- 
stalled at Canterbury, Dec. 22, 1847, and 



dismissed Nov. 3, 1858 ; installed at Ber- 
lin pastor of the Second Church, Dec. 1, 
1858. He married in 1848 Sarah B. 
Whitney of Northampton, Ms., and has 
four children. 

Rev. Charles Payson Grosvenor 
was bom at Pomfret, son of Payson and 
Prudence (Gray) Grosvenor ; graduated 
Y. C. 1827 ; served in Illinois as Sunday 
School Missionary ; was ordained pastor 
at Waterford, Ms. in 1834, where he re- 
mained 1^ years, then supplied at Kings- 
ton, R. I. 2^ years, — ^then was pastor at 
Scituate, R. I., 9J years, — then supply at 
Rehoboth, Ms., 9 years, — ^then at Stone- 
ham, Ms., 1^ years, and was installed at 
Canterbury, March 9, 1859. He has been 
married three times ; (1) to Cornelia Ma- 
thewson, (2) to Hannah Wells, (3) to 
Elizabeth (Harrison) wid. of Rev. Lewis 
Foster ; has three children living. 

(TO BE CONTINUED.) 



■-♦- 



MORTUARY STATISTICS 

OP THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOVER, DURING THE FIRST FIFTY YEARS.l 



So far as can be ascertained, 418 deaths 
have occurred among those who have been 
connected with the Seminar}*- ; which is a 
fraction over twenty per cent, of the 
whole number. About three-quarters of 
these were born in New England : while 
scarcely more than one-third are buried 
here. Their graves are found on all the 
four continents of the earth, and on many 
of her islands. The six New England 
States contain 174 ; New York, 27 ; Ohio, 
16 ; South Carolina, Indiana, and Illinois, 
7 each ; Virginia, 6 ; New Jersey, Mis- 
souri and Louisiana, 5 each ; Pennsylva- 
nia, Georgia, Michigan, Iowa and Ten- 
nessee, have each 4 ; North Carolina, 3 ; 
Maryland, Wisconsin, Kentucky, and Mis- 
sissippi, 2 each ; Alabama, Texas, Minne- 
sota, and the District of Columbia, each 

I The *^ Memorial of the Semi-CeDtennial Celebra- 
tion of the Founding of the Seminary," contains most 
of these statiaties, bat not the aceompanjlng table 
fh>m whieh many of them are deduced. Other de- 
daetloBi of equal interest can easily be obtained. 

YOL. I. 46 



have 1 ; 4 sleep in the Indian Territory, 
2 in Canada, and 1 in Nova Scotia. On 
the Continent of Asia, scattered through 
various countries and kingdoms, are 1 7 ; 
in Africa, 6 ; in different parts of Europe, 
G ; on the islands of the ocean, 10 ; and 4 
are buried in the deep. The burial places 
of the remaining 74 cannot be certainly 
determined from any obituary notice that 
has yet come to hand ; though it is pre- 
sumed that the committee to whom this 
general department has been given in 
charge, will be able, in due time, to sup- 
ply the deficient information. 

The departed were variously occupied 
in important posts when called to their 
rest. Besides the pastoral office, in which 
most of them were laboring, 38 were con- 
nected with the different Educational de- 
partments, as presidents of colleges, pro- 
fessors in literary or theological institu- 
tions, preceptors of academies, and teach- 
ers of public or private schools ; 36 were 



358 



Mortuary SttHgties. 



[Oas. 



misnonaries to the heathen ; 13 were sec- 
retaries or agents of benevolent societies ; 
3 wore editors of religions periodicals, and 
3 were physicians. 

The following Life-Table explains it- 
sel£ The diflcrence l>etwfcn pupils in 
the second column and aUimni in the 
seventh, is this ; — " pupils " embrace all 
who entered a class; '* alumni " only tlio?e 
who graduated. 



1 

*• — 


• 1 
•I 


• 
T 

* 


• 


• 

r > 


■ 


1 

• 

•- ; 
< 


• 
X 

• 


• 
w 




is-'Kt 


4 


.3 


1 


2.'» 


:;.; 


4 


;'• 


1 


2) 


l.Sl'l 


:j;i 


22 


11 


;j-'j 


.v> 


.3:; 


Ol 


11 


^3 


]Sll 


2:i 


17 


6 


2^^! 


.'.o 


23 


17 


6 


2-5 


1812 


12 







2.) 


40 


12 


J) 


3 


25 


isi:! 


!•'. 


r» 


<• 

1 


01; 


.iS 


1'. 


^1 





0) 


18U 


20 


12 


n 


y3 


40 


2i 


12 


u 


.'.3 


181-1 


I'.J 


0- 


i:{ 


(N 


4<', 


10 





13 


OS 


IMfi 


18 


c 


12 


'17 




1«) 


■» 





00 


1-17 


21 


8 


Ki 


02 


40 


20 


t 


13 


0.7 


ISIS 


2.; 


ilL 


11 


4} ! 


42 


17 


10 


7 
I4" 


1 41 


lhl«) 


2S 


•1 


r.! 


fiS 


41 


21 


i 


: 07 


18l»0 


•J'» 


I'j 


21 


m 


4r, 


2*. 


11 


17 


1 01 


1S21 


■l'.» 


10" 


:{■•; 


i'u 


42 


30 


8 


22 


'•■^ 


1S2J 


47 


11) 


21> 


02 


40 


2S 


14 


14 


! nO 


1S2:J 


. 27 


8 


in 


70 


:jo 


21 


8 


10 


. fi7 


lS2t 


i'lS 


vy 


.7.) 


07 




•i<i 


13 


20 


' 01 


1.H2.) 


'>\ 


I'j 


;is 


70 


47 


31 


8 


23 


74 


182'-; 


■1'» 


14 


2.1 


<;.i 


.30 


2''. 


»i 


17 


G'j 


1S27 


41'. 


ri 




72 


41 


: :!2 





23 


72 


1S2S 


II 


< ' 


;ji 


Ir:^ 


•>- 
^1 


2ii 


4 


10 


i i^o 


l.s2*.» 


•v; 


10' 


4:r 


81 


' 4J 


31 


3 


31 


■ 01 


1S:K) 


4!j, 


10 


.'Vl 


7'i 


.34 


28 


8 


20 


72 


1S:U 


.').') 


n 


40 


SO 


43 


4.) 


i") 


40 


80 


lSo2 


44 


11' 


r^:^ 


7") 


.3.'; 


20 


8 


21 


. 72 


is:;:; 


42 


^ 

i 


.r. 


;v; 


20 


23 


2 


21 


01 


is:;i 


7.'i 


I'j 


''57 


1 'J 


;;r, 




H 


2r.) 


i '^^ 


is:i^i 


;Vi 


11 


r,() 


S.3 


31 


37 





31 


51 


.is:;r; 


:i) 


4 


2;i 


77 


;;s 


, 13 



.J 


10 


1 1 


ISP.: 


■Ij. 


10 


:{.', 


7S 


41 


3.S 


3 


3.5 


02 


l.s:;.s 


. '57 


7: 


oo 


ss 


.31 


20 


2 


27 


03 


\KV.) 


: ;i7| 


ir 


""2^, 


70" 


32 


■~23" 


fi 


17 


1 74 


isiu 


1 41! 


^ 

/ 


.34 


8:j 


32 


2H 





23 


■ 82 


is 11 


Ci 


11 


41» 


82 


''I 


! 40 





37 


vSO 


1812 


r,2' 


10 


ryi 


81 


31 


33 


•l 


28 


8.3 


1M:j 


, .32: 


< 


4.1 


8*; 


3i) 


, ;;o 





28 


03 


1«U 


.■^7 


f; 


:!»; 


07 


;]•..) 


• IS. 


4 


U 


; "'^ 


IM"; 


40 





41) 100 




2Si 


n 


■ 2S 


1 100 


isi^; 


X'- 


4 


20 


88 


30 


21 


•» 

r 1 


IS 


8'5 


1S17 




4 


.",<* 


SS 


2.i 


2fi 


n 


17 


8.3 


1«1S 


:;.'» 


r; 


21*. 


83 , 


20 


^•1 





22 


70 


i.si:» 


.7.I 


0; 


ril.i 


Kh) 




'2S~ 





■ 28 


100 


1S.'.<) 


21 


2 


2' 


02 


20 


10 


•» 


1 17 


80 


ivn 


;;i: 


> 1 


.•51 


01 


20 


21 


1 


23 


0''. 


l:;./2 




•1 

•J 


27 


0-) 


.31 


20 


•J 


18 


00 


IS.':; 


:.r. 


't 
'1 


•■•> 


02 1 

1 


.T, 


2:j 


•I 


10 


83 


i-s.-,} i 


.'i.-s- 


•) 


r.ty 


0.5 1 


2.-, 


2:j 





,' 23 


100 


18.", 


•IL. 


2 


:;f) 


0.) ■ 


27 


201 


1 


28 


00 


lK')i\ t 




.T' 


.'i-i' 


02 i 


21 


24 





24 


KM) 


18.',7 ■ 


'.\s 


^'i 


:i8 100 1 




20 





20 


100 


lSr;S , 


ns 


1 


37 


07 


28 


31 


y 


31 ; 


100 



The facts and deductions here given, 
have respect onlv to the Alumni, nomber- 
in;r 288 in all. The avera^ nombcr of 
years which these 288 had reached on 
leaving the Seminary, was 25. This ascer- 
tained fact, together with the date of each 
one's death, affords the means of calco- 
latini; the probable length of ministerial 
life, —or, at least, of determining the prox- 
imate number in each graduating class 
whose ministr}' (supposing it to contiDne 
through life) will measure any particular 
period of time, up to fifty years. 

During the first decade, or period often 
years, the number of gratluates was 1 79, 
of which 83, or 40 per cent., still remain. 
Diirinir the second decade 273 were grad- 
u.ited, and 182, or 67 per cent., now sur- 
vive. I:i the third decade the graduates 
were 3i:), of which 205, or 85 per cent, 
arc living yet During the lourih decade 
275 left the Seminary, and 232, or 85 per 
cent., remain. During the fifth and \a/\ 
dciradc, the number of graduates, includ- 
ing the present graduating class, has been 
250, of whom 240, or 90 per cent; surrive. 
The whole number of «;raduates during 
the hair century, is 1290, of which 1002, 
or nearly 78 per cent, are still living. 

The tabic, together with the foregoing 
deductions, furnishes a reasonable proba- 
bility, that 00 graduates out of every 100, 
will have 5 years to spend in their Mas- 
ter's Vincvanl ; that 85 out of each 100 
will have 15 years; that 82 will have 25 
years ; tiiat 04 will be continued 35 years; 
that 34 will reach 45 years ; and that 25 
out of the hundred will be permitted to 
preach a Semi-centennial discourse. Or, 
to vary the form of this statement, sup- 
posing the classes in the future to etjual 
those in the past — which have averaged 
about 25 graduates — each class, at the end 
of five years from graduation, may be ex- 
pected to number 24 members ; at the end 
of 15 years, 22 members ; at the end of 25 
years, 21 members ; at the end of il5 
years, 1 7 members ; at the end of 45 years, 
1 1 members ; and at the close of a half 
century, 5 or members. 



1859.] A.H. M. Soddy and N. 8. General Assembly. 



359 



THE AMERICAN HOME mSSIONARY SOCIETY AND THE 
NEW SCHOOL GENERAL ASSEMBLY. 

BT KEY. J. 8. CLARK, D.D. 



Low murmurB of discontent with the 
proceedings of the American Home Mis- 
sionary Society had been issuing from 
Presbytery, Synod and General Assem- 
bly for several years, when, at their last 
meeting in Wilmington, Del., discontent 
broke out in open censure, and led to 
decisive action. A " Commission " was 
raised, embracing ten of their most influ- 
ential ministers and laymen, to investigate 
the matter and make report. The reason 
for this extraordinary step, as set forth in 
the vague preambulary, ** Whereas com- 
plaints have been made to the General 
Assembly from year to year," &c., does 
not account for the intense earnestness 
with which the subject was taken up and 
carried through a two days* discussion to 
the above named issue. But an attentive 
observer might have perceived that every 
speaker had his eye on a particular case 
of recent and extraordinary injustice (so 
deemed) wherein the feeble churches of 
a whole Presbjrterj' were refused aid by 
the American Home Missionary Society, 
and on grounds which were likely to 
involve others in a similar fate, unless 
something could be speedily done to pre- 
vent it. The Alton Presbytery — this was 
the case^ — ^preferring to expend their own 
home missionary funds in forwanling the 
interests of their own denomination, had 
ceased to cooperate with the National 
Society on the common field ; an<l for that 
reason were denied a share in the com- 
mon Treasury. What made the injustice 
of such denial seem the more glaring, was 
the fact (so asserted by several intelli- 
gent speakers) that the American Home 
Missionary Society ** is the creation of" 
the New School Presbyterian " Church ; " 
or, as one expressed it, ** the creature of 



the Assembly** designed to be " our em- 
ployee," and " fulfill our behests ; " but 
instead of being and doing just this and 
nothing more nor less, they — the Society, 
through their Executive Committee — 
have gone to framing rules and regula- 
tions of their own, grievously oppressive 
to the interests of Presbyterianism, of 
which the following were produced as 
specimens : — 

** 1st That the missionaries laboring 
within the bounds of an auxiliar}' or ec- 
clesiastical body, be commissioned by this 
Society, and be governed in their labors 
by its principles. 

'^ 2d. That the funds raised on the 
field be applied to cancel the pledges 
contained in the commissions, and be ac- 
knowledged by the Society as contribu- 
ted to its Treasury. 

** 3d. That the churches on the field 
coiiperate cordially with the Society in 
the raising of funds, and contribute year- 
ly to its Treasury, according to the full 
measure of their ability." ' 

The application of these rules and 
principles, it was conclusively shown, boro 
hard on the Alton Presbyter^-, which, 
though needy, was nevertheless allowed 
to take nothing from a Treasury into 
which it would put nothing ; and equally 
hard must it be in many other portions of 
the West, where there is so much yet to 
be done in discharging that paramount 
duty of providin;j: for their own denomi- 

1 In a correnpondence opened between the Kxecu- 
tive Committee and the Alton Prcabyteir, a copy of 
these rules had been sent to that body, prefkced by 
the statement that ** the following principles govern 
the Society, in co-operating with all auxiliary and 
ecclediaatical lK)dieti,'' and that the Execntire Com- 
mittee ^* will be luippy to co-operate with the Pres- 
bytery of Alton ou the same terms." 8oe Home Mis- 
sionary for July. 



360 A. H. M. Sotnety and N. S. General Asmihfy. [Oct. 

national wants, by occnpying the ground spite of aU existing bias on mther side, 

'* in advance of all others." will at length get a permanent record on 

These things duly considered and dis- the pages of history ? Some of them have 

cussed, judgment was rendered in the become history already, 

words following, riz : — In order to miderstand the nature and 

** The General Assembly can never ap- spirit of that cooperatiye alliance into 

prove of these resolutions, if they arc to which Presbyterians and Congregational- 

be interpreted as, ists entered in organizing the American 

" 1. Denying the right of our Presbyte- Home Missionary Society, we must for- 
ries, in our present relations to the Amer- get all our present bickerings, and sum- 
ican Home Missionary Society, to appoint, mon around us the reminiscencet of a 
solely on their own authority, one or past age, when the two denominations 
more exploring missionaries within their were essentially one, not only in Chris- 
bounds ; or as, tian doctrine, but in ecclesiastical and 

'* 2. A8!<erting it as a snflieient reason minbterial fellowship. The Congrega- 

why the Society should withhold aid tionalists, it is well known, were the firrt 

from the feeble churches of a Presbytery, to get footing on these shores. Andwhat- 

that other churches of such Presbytery ever expulsive airs they assumed towards 

contribute the whole, or a portion of their other sects, they never molested the 

Home Missionary funds elsewhere than Presbyterians. There is no historic re- 

to the Treasur}' of that Society." cord, no remembered instance, of opposi- 

The foregoing is believed to be — it tion on their part to the gathering of 
certainly is intended to be — a truthful re- a Presb\'torian Church wheneTer and 
8ume of what was said and done on this wherever members of that communion 
important subject in those two memorable were found desirous of doing so ; but re- 
daya of May 27 and 28, 1859, by the cords without number are at hand, show- 
" General Assembly of the Presbyterian ing a cheerful consent As early as 
Church in the United States of America." 1640 a band of Presbyterians wrote from 
And the apparent sincerity of grief, as of Scotland " to know whether they might 
ail injured party, which actuated the be freely suffered to exercise their Pres- 
spoakers, and the evident heartiness with bytcrial government amongst us, and it 
which each step was taken by the united was answered aflinnatively, they might." 
Assembly toward determined redress, (Winslow in Young, 405.) From that 
** would strike a stranger" as amounting time onward, ** Heads of Agreement," 
almost to a demonstration of wrong-doing " Plans of Union," and coojxirative alli- 
en the one side, and of injured innocence ances mark the way-side along which the 
on the other. The mere report of those two have travelled together, mutually 
sayings and doings scattered over the face " endeavoring to keep the unity of the 
of the earth, as they have been by hun- spirit in the bond of iKiace." True, our 
dreds of pressses, in millions of sheets, has fathers were tenaciously attached to their 
left, on innumerable minds, the impres- own church polity, — more so than the 
sion that in some way or other — to what bulk of their descendants are at the pres- 
extent may not be very clear — this once ent time, and defended it from encroach- 
noble, right-principled and pure-hearted ments with niore warmth of zcaL Even 
Institution, either of its own accord, or those Scotch brethren, to whom such a 
stirred up by its Congregational constit- ready welcome was extended, were told 
uency, has swerved from its original prin- " not to expect that we should provide 
cij)les, and stands chargeable with dere- them ministers ; but getting such them- 
liction in prac'ticc. selves, they might exercise their Presby- 
15 ut what are the facts, which, in terial government at their liberty, walk- 



1859.] A. KM. Society and N. S. General Assembly. 361 



ing peaceably towards ua, as we trusted 
we should towards them." And when, as 
Winthrop informs us (Vol. II., 137,) a 
discussion arose in a Convention of minis- 
ters and magistrates in 1643, about " the 
Presbyterial way," which was ** concluded 
against " in that body, it was simply a 
conclusion not to change their own way, 
at the request of the " Newbury minis- 
ters." And among the many sharp say- 
ings of John Wise, in his " Churches* 
Quarrel Espoused," nothing is said against 
Presbyterians holding their own polity ; 
but only against CotKjregationalists gioing 
up theirs. Even this last point was virtu- 
ally surrendered by both denominations 
when the ** Plan of Union between Pres- 
byterians and Congregationalists in the 
new settlements," was adopted in 1801. 
According to that plan a Congregational 
church settling a Presbyterian minister, 
or a Presbyterian church settling a Con- 
gregational minister, might still " conduct 
their discipline" according, to their own 
ecclesiastical principles ; and in case the 
church were of a mixed character — part- 
ly Presbyterian and partly Congregation- 
al — they might " choose a standing com- 
mittee from the communicants of said 
church," to issue all cases of discipline 
without consulting any body else, but al- 
lowing the condemned member to appeal, 
if he was a Presbyterian, to the pres- 
bytery, — if a Congregationalist, to the 
Church." 

Such were the relations subsisting be- 
tween the two, when, on the 12th of May, 
1826, a purely voluntary association was 
formed by individuals from both these 
denominations, with some others, who, in 
their organized capacity, called them- 
selves The American Home Mission- 
ary Society. From the wonling of the 
Constitution which they adopted as the 
basis of their union, no one could certainly 
infer that such a thing had ever been 
invented, as a Presbyterian or Congrega- 
tional Church — much less that this new- 
formed Society was any part of the eccle- 
^astical mechanism of either. Nor does 



a closer inspection of the circumstances 
and details, the antecedents, accompani- 
ments and consequents of this creative 
act, yield the least additional evidence of 
a Presbyterial creation. The only refer- 
ence made to denominations throughout 
the whole proceeding is found in the pub- 
lished call for a Convention to organize 
the Society, wherein " the Congregational, 
Presbyterian, and Dutch Reformed de- 
nominations " are announced as ** prepared 
to unite in one concentrated and intense 
eflTort to build up the wastes of our com- 
mon country." This language, while it 
contradicts the idea of a Society formed 
under the auspices of any one denomina- 
tion, directly and emphatically asserts the 
cooperative agency of at least three such 
bodies in forming it. 

What, then, becomes of the claim, set 
up by the General Assembly, to control 
the American Home Missionary Society ? 
— a claim founded in the right of creation ! 
There is none. There never was any. 
It was indeed obliquely hinted at Wil- 
mington, in the Report of the Standing 
Committee on Church Extension, that 
some time at\er the Presbyterians had put 
forth the creative act, and given the So- 
ciety a being — we are not told precisely 
how lonjr after — " others were received as 
partners." Their words are these, and 
very remarkable words they are ; — " That 
Society is the creation of our Church, 
originally organized in the bounds and by 
the members of our Church ; and its origin 
and the capital of various kinds it has 
accumulated make it impossible, as a mat- 
ter of feeling, and of interest, and of jus- 
tice, that we should abandon it to those 
whom we have received as partners in it." 
Just here and now, it is enough to know 
that a partnership was actually formed, no 
matter when or where, or how it was 
brought about. Presbyterians do concede^ 
then, that Congregationalists became 
" partners " with them in the work of 
Home Missions. But do they believe that 
such a thing would have been possible, on 
terms which the Alton Presbytery now 



362 



Soddy and N. S. General Assembfy. [Oct. 



ask, and which the Greneral Assembly 
have endorsed ? 

Let us imagine a scene at the forming 
of this partnership. Something like it 
most have occurred, if things proceeded 
after the fiishion here set forth. The 
Presbyterian " Chupch," or " Assembly," 
or "members," — whichever it was that 
created the Home Missionary' Society — 
arc at length ready to receive the Congre- 
gationalists into cooperation with them in 
the work of Home Missions; and they 
propose these terms, among others, viz: 
1st, "The Executive Committee shall 
appoint missionaries and instruct them as 
to the field and manner of their labors," 
(see Constitution of the A. H. M. S., arti- 
cle 4,) except such as " our Presb^'tcries '* 
may choose " to appoint, solely on their 
own authority," as " exploring missiona- 
ries within their own bounds." (See 
Minutes of last Gen. Assembly.) 2d, " The 
Executive Committee shall liave the dis- 
posal of the funds," provided that, when 
the able churches of a Presbytery, desirous 
of planting Presbyterian churches " in 
advance of all others," shall *' (tontrihute 
the whole, or a portion, of their Home 
Missionary funds elsewhere than to the 
Treasury of this Society," the Committee 
shall not refuse the feeble churches of 
such Presbytery, already planted, an 
e(jual share with those of other Presby- 
teries or denominations who have con- 
tributed the whole of theirs into the com- 
mon Treasury ; and anything contrary to 
these principles of cooperation, ** we can 
never approve." (See Constitution and 
Minutes as above.) ^ 

1 It ought, in juuticc, to be stated that the delegates 
from the (ieneral Aft<«einb1y to several of the New 
England (ieneral At(50ciationi<, dUayowed, in the 
name of their Church, any intention to ufln tlieir own 
fund^i for denominational purpoKS, and then dravr 
an equal 8hare with others from the common Treasu- 
ry ; prote!>ting that no such thing had been attempt- 
ed, and repelling the imputation with Rcoru. But 
while we admit the sincerity of this protest, and feel 
bound to believe that the demands of the Alton Pres- 
bytery stftn to them perfectly fair and even-handed, 
as a part of the co-operative syptcui. we are compeIlc«l 
to add, that, as we view the subject, a more remar- 
kable instance of hallucination has not occarrod 
feince tlie days of Don Quixote. 



Now, is it to be believed by an j sane 
person, that a co-partnership on sudli 
terms was a possible thing ? If, to Telieve 
the absurdity of this proposal, it bad been 
said to the Congregationalists then, as is 
sometimes said now, * You may have the 
same liberty;' the answer would have 
been, as it still is, ' We want oo such lib- 
erty.' Why multiply occasions of strife 
between us ? Such an entangling alliance, 
instead of promoting friendly cooperation, 
will prevent it, and make enemies of 
friends. And even were it otherwise, 
why form a Society, or appoint an Execu- 
tive Committee to administer afllairs which 
the youngest clerk in a counting-room 
could administer as well ? Should it be 
understood that each denomination waa 
at liberty to contribute to its own exten- 
sion, some small contributions might 
chance to stray into the common Treas- 
ury at Grst, which would need to be dis- 
bursed by the rule of ** Simple DiTiston," 
— a light labor and ever growing less. 

These are some of the aspects which 
the subject assumes, even when we accept 
the Presbyterian theory of cooperative 
Home Missions, and attempt to follow it 
out in practice. Only admit the exist- 
ence of any such partnership in the Ameri- 
can Home Missionary Society as common 
sense can believe possible, even supposing 
Connrre<;ationalists to have had nothinor to 

Or? O 

do in bringing it al)out but just to stand at 
the door and be *' leceived as partners ;" 
and how it sounds to hear Presbyterians 
talk of such a Society as formed to " fulfill 
their behests !'* And it sounds still worse 
if, in place of this fanciful theory, we put 
the real facts, as " kuown and read of all 
men," outside of the last General Assem- 
bly. When heard bv a Conorresationalist, 
it can hardly fail to provoke resentment 
or ridicule, accordin;* to the serious or 
comic turn of his mind. 

The simple facts about the origin of the 
American Home Missionary Society, in a 
few words, arc these. Domestic Mission- 
ary Societies had sprung up all over New 
England, and in the State of Now York, 



1859.] A. KM. Soddy and N. S. General AssernbJy. 363 

and were each sending forth laborers, as Constitution to be proposed — ^ahnost pre- 
their means would allow, when, on the cisely the same principles and constitution 
SOth of September, 1825, the idea of a with those which were subsequently 
National Society occurred to some one in adopted, and are still retained — the ques- 
a meeting of several gentlemen " from tion arose as to the best way of proceed- 
various parts of the United States " at Dr. ing to organize the Society. And here 
Wisner's study, in Boston, the day after the reader will be interested to know upon 
they had been ordaining a number of An- whom Providence devolved the settle- 
dover students^ to the Home Missionary ment of these weighty questions — into 
work, in the service of the United Domes- whose hands it was given to shape this 
tic Missionary Society of New York. That forth-coming organization, which the late 
Society, being neither ecclesiastical nor General Assembly were told was origi- 
denominational, but a voluntary organiza- nally their " employee," but " has become 
tion of individuals from several commu- the employee of another denomination." 
nions were disposed to have some of their We happen to have their names. This 
missionaries ordained Congregationally, second meeting, in which these grave mat- 
and sent two of their Executive Commit- ters were proceeding to their momentous 
tee, Messrs. Bruen and Cox, to assist in that issue, as above mentioned, consisted of 
service, at Boston. It was apparently a Pres. W. Allen, of Maine ; Rev. N. Lord, 
matter of indilTerence, which way they of New Hampshire ; Rev. S. Whittlesey, 
were ordained ; nor is it likely that one in of Connecticut; Rev. Messrs. B. Emer- 
a hundred of our Boston folks knew or son, E. Cornelius, L. Woods, E. Porter, J. 
cared whether they were going to labor Edwards, W. Fay, S. E. Dwight, B. Wis- 
in connection with Congregational, Pres- ner, J. Codman, and S. Osgood, of Mas- 
byterian, or Dutch Reformed churches, sachusetts — thirteen in all, and all Con- 
It was in just this catholic spirit, after gregalionaliMs ! Letters from several 
uniting in such a Ciiristian act, that " the absent gentlemen were read, strongly com- 
desirableness and expediency of forming mending the general object ; and on the 
a National Domestic Missionary Society " next morning, after all the business had 
was first conceived, and a Committee been disposed of. Rev. Messrs. Peters, 
appointed, consisting of Rev. Messrs. Por- Bruen and Falconer, of New York, a dep- 
ter and Edwards, of Andovor, and Tay- utation from the Executive Committee of 
lor,of New Haven, Ct., "to make inquiries the United Domestic Missionary Society, 
in relation to the subject, and if they arrived, having been delayed by the state 
should deem it advisable, invite a meeting of the roads, and gave their " unqualified 
of gentlemen friendly to the object, in approbation " to all that had been done- 
Boston, sometime in the month of January And what had been done? Instead of 
ensuing." calling a National Convention through a 
That second meeting was accordingly Committee of their own, to form a Society 
held at the house of Henry Homes, Esf|., independent oC all existing institutions, 
and the resolution unanimously passed, and invite the others to become auxiliary ; 
that it was, in their view, expedient to or instead of selecting the Connecticut, or 
attempt the formation of such a Society, — the Massachusetts Missionary Society for 
among many other weighty reasons, be- a nucleus around which the others should 
cause of *' the tendency it will have to crystallize, these thirteen Congregational- 
produce among the friends of evangelical ists had decided to ask the Executive 
religion in the United States greater union Committee of the United Domestic Mis- 
of feeling and exertion." Having settled sionary Society of New York — full twenty 
a few general principles, as the basis of years younger than either of the others, 
such an organization, and agreed upon a but more favorably located for the work 



864 



A. KM. Society and N. S. General Assembfy. [Oct. 



in hand — to call a Convention at New 
York, in the following May, to forma Na- 
tional Society, by a reconstruction of that, 
" should no especial reasons occur to ren- 
der such a measure inexpedient" For- 
getful alike of sectional and denomina- 
tional interests, and mindful only of the 
interests of Christ's kingdom, by their 
Christian catholicity they gave to their 
Presbyterian brethren all the pretext they 
have for claiming priority of action, or 
preeminence of control, in the afliairs of 
the American Home Missionary Society. 
But let us follow this process one step 
farther. The Executive Committee of the 
United Domestic Missionary Society were 
easily persuaded to do as advised. They 
issued their circular. They called a Con- 
vention. It numbered one hundred and 
thirty-two names, connected with four 
denominations, and was gathered from 
thirteen States. President Day, of New 
Ilaven, a Congregationalist, presi<lcd. 
Of the two Secretaries, one was Presby- 
terian, and the other Dutch Reformed. 
The Constitution previously drawn up by 
thirteen Congregationalists, and approved 
by a deputiition from the Executive Com- 
mittee of the United Domestic Missionary 
Society, wius submitted, and adopted, and 
then it was recommended to that bodv to 
accept the same, ** and become the Ameri- 
can Home Missionary Society,** — which 
was accordingly doni^, as before said, May 
12, 1826. Thus much is indisputable ; or, 
if called in ([uestion, can be proved by a 
reference to the Fourth Report of the 
United Domestic Missionary Society. But 
how it was that, by so doing, the Society 
became ** the creation of the Presbvterian 
Church," as alfirmed in the late Report 
on Church Extension ; or " was foiTncd 
and nursed to maturity among Presbyte- 
rians before our Congregational brethren 
had anything of importance to do with it," 
as that part of the Report was explained 
by Dr. Stearns, of Newark, docs not ap- 
pear so evident. It is not probable that 
one in a thousand, except New School 
Presbyterians, will be able to fetch such a 



concluaioQ from sach data. In feet, it ii 
but lately that they have discovered how 
to do it themselves. During the whole of 
that sharp controversy between the Old and 
New Schools, which resulted in the excis- 
ion of the latter, nothing was known of 
this Presbyterian origin of the Americaa 
Home Missionary Society, or it certainly 
would have stood higher and fared better 
with the dominant party, who, whatever 
sins were laid to their charge, were never 
changed with denominational indifierence. 
They would have kept the Society in 
their possession, and continued to use it as 
their ** employee," had they known that 
it was ** their creation." But they bad no 
idea of any such thing. ** It is not an 
ecclesiastical, but a civil Institution,** they 
said, and ** by interference and importu- 
nity it disturbs the peace, and injures the 
prosperity of the Presbyterian Church." 
[See Dr. Wilson's pamphlet on the sub- 
ject.] This, it should be remembered, 
was before modern degeneracy had reached 
it ; before a complaint was raised by the 
present complainers. 

But while in this one particular, viz., 
the Presbyterial " creation " of the Ameri- 
can Home Missionary Society, there is 
an evident disagreement between the Old 
School of that day and the New of this, in 
several other particulars of great impor- 
tance thev are found in fraternal svm- 
pathy. For proof of this, let any one read 
" Judd's History of the Division of the 
Presbyterian Church in the United States 
of America;" especially chapter fifth, on 
the " real grounds of the excision," (pp. 
84-159 ;) and compare it with the doings 
of the last General Assembly, and the 
documents put forth since. lie will per- 
ceive an a<«toaishing sunilarity between 
the 01<1 School notions then, and the New 
School notions now : particularly in re- 
spect to Volnntiry Societies, Assembly's 
Boards, and Ecclosiastii'ism in general. 
And here we have the true secret of all 
the troubles which our New School breth- 
ren find with the policy and proceedings 
of the American Home Missionary So- 



1869.] A. KM. Soeietp and N. 8. General Assemhfy. 366 



ciety. They look at the whole thin*; from 
another stand-point than that of former 
years. It is not the Society, but them- 
selves that have changed.^ The able ex- 
pounder of their principles to who:n allu- 
sion has already been made, speaking of 
things as they were at the close of that 
conflict, says, ** Our principles lay us un- 
der obligation to do all in our power to 
give increased efficiency to Voluntary 
Societies for the spread of the Gospel and 
the conversion of the world. Tlie unrea- 
sonable opposition to them on the part of 
oar brethren, [of the Old S;.*hool.] and 
their iron determination to exclude their 
operation from the Presbyterian Church, 
and bind all her members to contribute to 
Boards under Ecclesiastical control, was 
one of the chief causes of placintr us in 
our present position. If there be any 
in our body who adopt their views of 
Eixlesiastical Boards, it certainly becomes 
them to pay a respectful deference to the 
opinions of those who differ from them, 
and especially of their fathers and breth- 
ren who have manfully and with great 
self-denial contended for the voluntary 
principle in labors for spreading the go«ipel 
at home and in foreign lands. Especially 
should we hold fast and defend th.it fea- 
ture of the voluntary principle which 
unites the labors, contributions and prayers 
of Christians of diffcrenc names for the 
spread of their common faith, and pro- 
moling the glory of their common Father, 
Redeemer, and Sanctlfier.' 

Noble sentiments, these — the offspring 

> Since this ReDteoce was written, Mr. A. W. 
Corey, a lay member of the Montic«llo Presbyteriia 
Ohareb, connected with the Alton Pre«bytery, in 
Mating the reiieooa for his diftMot from the action of 
Chat iKKly relative to the American Ilooie Mis'*! mary 
Society, eays, " I JlscoTer no change in its (c he So- 
tHHy*») prlndplee or policy, and see no cauM for 
eoDplalnt on the part of the Alton I'riMbycery that 
did nut exi'it iong t>efare her nuiuerou* fneble church* 
ee were organiied aud nurturrd into exUt^'Uce t>y the 
Uberatity of the Missionary Soclery. Ic )ip))eNrs to 
me that the editor of the Horn* ALxsionary h;u hit 
tbe ease exaotiy when he afHrms that ^ the Society 
haa not changed, bat the demands of the Presbytery 

• Jodd'S HiMocy of the Division, kc, p. 221. 
YOIm X. 47 



of Christian principle. It would not be 
possible to keep New England Congrega- 
tionalists from codp.5rating with sonis po8« 
sessed of such a catholic spirit And they 
seem all the more noble when put in con- 
trast with sentiments then held by the 
other branch of that Churoh. Just before 
the separation was effected, a Circular 
came forth from a Committee of theirs, 
Dr. A. Greene, chairman, with the design 
of rouHing the churches ** to a just sense of 
their danger and their duty,*' — pleading 
for a more liberal patronage of their own 
separate and sei-tariin efforts. ** Our 
Eilujation and Misiionary Boards, there- 
fore, we repeat, must be sustained," 
they said, " must be promptly, and liber- 
ally, and effi>'ieiitlv patronized, or our 
Church is gone. We must take from 
others, [that is from the Voluntary and 
cooperative So ieties] so far as it is nec- 
essary, to'give to these."' 

Now take the following extract from 
a recent ** Statement of the Church Ex- 
tension Committee, to the Ministers, 
Rilling Elders, and Members of the Pre*- 
byteriin Church," a»id see whi»'h of the 
above quotations it most nearly resembles. 
After adverting to the fact that this Church 
Extension Committee's powers were so 
enlarged at the last met-ting of the Gen- 
eral Assembly as to embrace the explora- 
tion of Nebraska, California, Oregon, and 
all the lately settled regions this side, as 
also the supply of those feeble churches in 
the Alton and other Presbyteries, which 
the Society refuses to aid because the 
said Presbyteries refuse to contribute their 
Home Missionary funds into its Treasury; 
they endorse the assertion of a Western 
periodical, that ** Everything now depends 
upon the Church Extension Committee" 
and then proc'ced as follows: — " Were 
there no other agoncy for Home Missions 
operatin:^ in our Churoh, our task would 
be comparatively ea-^y. But the agencies 
of the AmL'rican Home Missionary So- 
ciety reach every Church in our connec- 

s See Jadd^s Histoxy, p. 150, and much man of tha 
« eort on manj other piflet. 



866 



A. KM. SoeiefyandN. 8. OeneralABsembfy. [Oct. 



tkm. That Society has, according to its the Society, bui n&i as a Pre^ffienf ! — wo 

official publication, twenty-three Secreta- that, ander cover of this logic, whenever 

rttfs and Agents^ a part of the duty of all they desire to appropriate ^ the whole or 

of whom it is to collect funds. In these a portion of their Home Misraonary funds" 

circumstances," i. e., with such a host of for sectarian uses, they have only to as- 

competitors — for this is the condensed sume this latter shape while doing it, and 



idea — they cannot tliink of " putting into 
the field less than three persons," one at 
New York, one at Philadelphia, and one 
aft Chicago, ** to present this cause to the 
ehurches and gather funds during the 
ensuing year ; and they name $30,000 as 
•• the least sum required for the work." 



the Society has nothing to say; after 
which, by turning again, Proteus-like, into 
a voluntary Association of individaals, 
they can claim for their feeble churches 
an equal share with others, and the So* 
cicty has no right to deny them I 

But perhaps the most remarkable and 



One must read tlie whole document lea^jt defensible feature of this controversy 



thoughtfully, to appreciate its calm, but 
determined spirit of antagonism to the 
American Home Mistionarv So«.'ietv — an 
agency which has become not only worth- 
less for the purposes of " our Church," 
but positively hurtful. Nothing is said 
here about providinjf for •* exceptional 
cases," or "supplementing" that Society, as 
the Committee have heretofore been wont 
to speak when dest^ibing thuir fuin;tions. 
It w Me Netp School Assemhlifs Hoard 
OF D0MK8TIC Missions— just such a 
thing as they fought against less than 
twenty-five years a^'o, — when the Old 
School, in *• their iron determination," 
were treating the Home Mi-ssionarv So- 
ciety in precisely the way it is now treited 
by them, and for [)recisely the same rea- 



of the New School Presbyterians with the 
American Home Missionary Society is the 
attempt to wring from their Executive 
Committee concessions which thev have it 

m 

not in I heir power to grant, even wt-re 
they so disposed, without the consent of 
other parties. The principles of copart- 
nership in the work of Home Missions, as 
we have seen, were mutually agreed upon 
before the Society was fornietl. It would 
not otherwise have been possible to form 
it. There was a mutual surrender, ex- 
press or implied, of certain denomina- 
tional rights in the prosecution of this one 
common enterprise ; and a recognition of 
the authority of a central Executive Com- 
mittee to '* have the disposal of the funds," 
to appoint, commission, locate and direct 



sons. The amiable Doctor Fowler, of all the missionaries, with ])Ower also to 
Utica, who came as delegate from that " create such agency or agencies " for 
Assembly to the General Association of these or other purposes, as, in their \-iew, 



Massachusetts, last June, at Pittsfield, 
made the most eloquent part of his speech 
out of the ♦* scars" left on the N. S. 
Church while fi^htinfj for us, and our 
principles in the war of WM. It was a 
telling stroke, and for a moment we could 
imagine that thev had not ** rijiht-about 
faced " and turned their arms ajrainst 
their allies. But the pleasing illusion 
soon vanished as he proceeded to iterate 
and endorse the absurd complaints of the 
Alton Presbytery, and, stranger still, to 
justify the complainers, on the ground 
that, as a voluntarv Association of indi- 



" the interests of the institution may re- 
(juire ;" but not a shred of authority was 
ever given them to alter the terms on 
which these several denominations had 
agreed to cooperate in the Home Mis- 
sionary work. There was no reason whv 

W V 

there should have been ; it was out of 
their province. It belonged to others; 
and those others entereil into a satisfac- 
tory arranjjement, which thev intcndetl 
should be permanent. In Massachusetts, 
for exam[)le, were two organizations for 
Home Missions — one of which could work 
only in the State, and the other onlv out 



viduals, they were subject to the rules of of it. Between them both they coakl 



1859.] ±H.M. SocU^ and N. 8. General Assem^f. 867 

occopy any part of the field, to the extent pended on Congregational churches oat 
of their means. But, as already shown, of New England ; but how much, nobody 
they saw, or thought they saw, that *' great- knows— nobody asks — nobody cares, so it 
er union of feeling and exertion among be used for the upbuilding of Christ's 
the friends of evangelical religion '* would kingdom, in the spirit and with the intent 
result from a general cooperation. And of those unsectarian fathers who devised 
in order to come into it on equal terms this plan of cooperation. If, as on rare 
with the rest, they relinquished their own occasions has occurred in these State So- 
peculiar functions, and both merged into cieties, a County or Conference Auxiliary, 
one organism under the old Massachu- dissatisfied with the too frugal disburse- 
setts Missionary Society's charter, which ment within its bounds, assumes the an- 
the legislature took the pains to alter for disputed right of appropriating its own 
that express purpose ; and then the re- funds on its own field, it also assumes the 
organized body became auxiliary to the care of its own poor churches — alvoays, 
American Home Missionary Society by A ca^ like that of the Alton Presbytery 
agreeing, as the other auxiliaries also did, cannot be found in the Home Missionary 
to pay over '* the whole of its funds,'* ac- annals of New England ; and nothing is 
cording to the 8th Article of the Constitu- hazarded in asserting that it never will be. 
tion — which they have continued to do This case — in itself not worthy of half 
ever since. Now, what right has the the notice here given to it— derives im- 
Executive Committee to disturb this well- portance from the fact that the entire 
considered and carefully adjusted basis of New School Presbyterian Church, by 
cooperation ? What propriety in one of their action in the last General Assembly, 
the cooperating parties asking them to do and by their subse<|uent proceedings, have 
it, without consulting the others ? It planted themselves on the principle which 
would be an unwarrantable stretch of underlies it, and intend to make it the 
authority, as well as unfair in itself, for tower of their defence — their Malakoff* — 
the Executive Committee now to tell in the war they wage against the Ameri- 
the Alton Presbytery, or the ten Commis- can liome Missionary Society. Who 
sioners, that demands so one-sided, self- would have thought it ? In that other 
favoring and subversive of all even-handed conflict of the same sort which the Old 
cooperation as theirs, can be allowed. School Presbyterians carried on against 
It has indeed been said that these New the same Society in former years, no such 
England auxiliaries are doing just what stand was taken, or even talked of. They 
they complain of their Presbyterian breth- wished to help forward their own denomi- 
ren for attempting to do, — viz., taking nation farther than it was likely to be 
care of their own feeble churches. But advanced through a co-operative alliance 
how taking care of them ? By giving with Congregationalists ; and they em- 
them over to one Home Missionary Board, barked in a separate movement, under 
and their contributions to another V By the sanction and control of the General 
opening a Congregational Church Exten- Assembly, just as our New School breth* 
ston Treasury, thirty thousand dollars ren are now doing, through their Church 
deep, and employing an adequate num- Extension Board. They conceived the 
ber of collecting agents to fill it V No^no ; idea, at length, that the American Home 
but by putting into the Treasury of that Missionary Society was ** injurious to the 
Society, as was done the past year, prosperity of the Presbyterian Church ;*' 
$1 14,000, and then receiving back $35,000 and they let it slide ; they withdrew, taking 
to be expended among themselves under with them their funds, and all the feeble 
its commission. It is presumed that a por- churches they could get But, strangely 
tion of the balance ($79,000) is also ex- enough, our New School brethren, chafing 



368 



A. a M. Society and N. 8. Cfeneral Assembfy. [Oct. 



under the same sense of injan*, and with- 
holding their patronage in like manner, 
still cling to the Society, and demand of it 
a support for their feeble churches, even 
should all the others in their connection 
** contribute the whole of their Home Mis- 
sionary funds elsewhere !*' 

There is no room for doubting ** where- 
unto this will grow.** It marks thi* near 
approach of a formal disruption of all co- 
operative ties between Presbytcri.'nis and 
Congregationalists in the work of Home 
Missions.^ When or how ihe connection 
will be dissolved mav as vet be a matter 
of conjecture ; but that there has been 
for some years a steady progress towards 
it, anil that the inauguration of tlie Pi-es- 
bvterian Church Extension Committee, 
in 1855, will hercailer be viewed as "the 
beginning of the end,** is beyond all con- 
jecture. The development sim e that time 
has been wonderfully ra|»id. From the sim- 
ple and arth'ss oflic'e of relieving a ** few 
exceptional cases,** the funetions of that 
Committee have been so enlarged as to 
embrace the emire field of the Ameriean 
Home Missionary Soiety, so tfir, at leaM, 
as the wants of that denomination are 
concernoil. The Old Sehof)! Board of 
Domestic Mis>i(ms is not projected on a 
larger scale, nor endued with more 
etliciency. This faet, in connei-iion with 
the newlv invented claims of the Alton 
and other Presbyteries, on which the 
whole New School Church, through its Ge- 
neral Assembly, has taken a stand, is evi- 
dence enough of what is coming. Should 
these extraordinary claims continue to be 
refused by the Executive Conmiittee, 
after all the resolutions passed and the 
logic expended in their enforcement, as 
we cannot doubt they will, it would seem 

1 Tlili* Imuv ha^ b* en deplorvJ and witbotood by 
the niaM of Nvw Knglaiid CoiigregadooHHati*, and by 
none niore sincerely tliMn by the writer of these 
pnge*. Dut the coui m of eruntf) is :ig iln^t um. Every 
meeting of the Geueriil Afwenibly, and ert* ry Pre!»by- 
teiian moTeoienc outside of it — even when originating 
among the friends of co-operation itnd with a view to 
promote it — frays away some thread, befom uo- 
brok«o, in the lillteo cord that unites tbe two deuom* 
ntatlnni in crangeUcal labors. 



that the Presbyterians mwt break off their 
connection with the Soi'iety in full, as ibej 
have already done in part, if resolutions 
and lo^ic have any force or meaning. 
They do indeed express tender feelings, 
as we have seen, at the thought of 
leaviug the Society ; but if either must 
({uit, it hardly stands to reason that those 
who have no fault to find should be the 
ones to go* The Congregationalists, 
though the largest contributors to its funds, 
are satisfied, as yet, with the administra- 
tration of its ati'airs. We are glad that 
this fact is so fully recojjnized bv Presbr- 
terinns; though we regret to see a fact, 8c» 
harmless in itself, turned into a new accu- 
siition ajrainst the Society. The writer of 
long articles in the fCvnngelisf, a'reidy 
referred to, complainingly says, in that 
paper for July 20, " The Home Mission- 
ary Society has b<-en so administered hs 
to have arrayed in its favor, on even* 
question, almost the whole Congregational 
denomination, and against its procedure, 
in important respects, every de<.*ided Pres- 
byterian in the land who is fully ae<]aaint- 
ed with its doings/* All this, while it 
proves nothing against the Society, does 
prove an irreconcilable variance of judg- 
ment between these two denominations, as 
to its policy. It is imjxtssible that they 
should work together with advantage much 
longer, if this is in<leed the position in whieh 
thev stand to each other and to the Society 
in which they once co-operated so harmo- 
niously, and with .«uch happy effect. 

3 &Jr. A. W. Corey, alrendy referred to, lends the 
following strong confirmation to the views here, and 
elKwhere in thiit article, a<lTanred ;—*'■ Tb« action of 
the Alton Presbytery in regard to Voluntary Assoda- 
tinns. is Tirtuiilly the Mime as rhat taken by the Old 
Srhnol party in 1831, and which led to tbe grmi 
schi(*m in 1^37. If, after an experience of aiinie 
twenty odd years, the New School chorrbes hare 
suddenly discoTcred tbHt the Voluntary and Union 
principle for the nianagment of our be n er^ i feat 
operations is wrong, and that our Old School brath- 
ren were right in placing eyerything under the man* 
agrment of £<rcIef<lMStl(*al Bonrdi*, would it not be 
wiiie for those churches to transf r tbdr relationa at 
once fVom the New School to the Old School bot^, 
where they can be accommodated, and leaT« those 
who are sutlsfled with tbe present arrangemanu m- 
dlstorbed V^ 



1869.] 



Veid3aivm ef Charebea. 



369 




VENTILATION OF CHURCHES. 



The bouse oI' womhip for the Winnimm- 
met Congregational Chun-h of Chelsea, 
Ht., wat L-ommenued in 1851, and vras 
completed earlv in 1S52. The acijompa- 
Qjring print or the front elevation U in- 
serted, not mere!)' betause of its gooil 
proportionB and attrai-tive yet inexpensive 
■t)-le, but to affonl an opportunity to say 
Kmetfaing further on the subject of ■' Veo- 
tiUtioii " — a robject little understood, less 



well practised, bat of no inconsiderable 

This house is of wood, 65x 9a fuct on the 
ground, including a four feet prtgection 
under the steeple, and one of equal depth 
in the rear for the pulpit. The auditory 
\i 30 feet in the tlear, trom ceiling to 
floor. The pews are cirunlar, bringing 
every worshipper into full view of the 
■peaker. Tbe gallerie* are veiy low and 



368 A. H. M. Society and N. 8. ^ ^, [Oct 

nniler Iho Mme jcnw of injurj-, nml - ' ,<■ ,f , "^ AngaO, bas an excellent 
hotrling llifir piiironn-e in I-' -'^''C ■,;'" " 'mpore Air," in whirh ho 
•till cliiig to the SoiJely. . - ■:; ■•^^-: - Tho «••?■> "ho work.-.! it. iliu 
B Biiprwrl for Ikrir fiic' ^, - -,!';"'/*»"" Tunnel suOcn.l sovenl.v l.y 
rfioulil nil the olhew ' . .";*.^, juration, low frvor*. an.I i-^cn duaili 
"lomriliiitetlii- w' '"^^^^ fimm breatliing tbe (ieluterinu* fi;i' oi' tiir 

noii!irv fiMidj el' ' ■ "^ j •■<*''' '^^ plate j wUcre by ihe nioal i-riti.-;il rlivmi- 

Tlieruidiio , ' .^fi*-'"*"^!'''^ i»l twiU tht'nj was but one jiart of Unl 

unto llii» w- - ..^-'!lfl*' ';"^rii ■"?' ■'•' '•* « biiinlrt'il Ibmixaii'I Aii 

approM'h- ,,,.^'''^''^*<I[^'''P™" •tOMWI'lifre coiitainin^r only two p:iri:- i.r 

opcriitivi / ■*'^t-*'"*'*'rioiuJ'°"'-' "" carbonii- acid ■iiw in <i ImmlixO of loui- 

Consr.' ;.v"''T.*^'^'J^>'T.>-'">*^*^''' ""•" »'"■. 'tillfl a r'"PE>y '"' '*■> ""i'l"'"^^ 

Missi' l«p ',fi^''^ !. rtDPf, i-oni-er^ anil a bait ; ami a .lo',- wlii.b l.r.;illicJ an 

will '^ »>■" fe*" I*'" '■■"■"■■'' "" ■t"">!'|«i"re ■■orliimiiii; only a ijiuriiT ol 

Of % in » "^r'^r-* "=■ v.-"''?- -r. o.,e p.r ...nr. of rl.. «u,k. i...u-. .li..! ir. .,-n 

ft. *""if "**** „.o- i-rtntfni'iiit- Tbc houw." Hut tbisili>a'lly >[i>4 is :ii)iiiviiriii- 

' Mii''"'''"' *"■■* '"^^ IjKlii's' Riioiii ble [iroiliict of i(>i<;>ii\itii>ii cvitv whiTi-, 

fjip"* '' ""^wJ' "■*"'■''■ ^^^-^' »■"' ainl!dioiililin-vi'iIi.n-inlial.'.l. 

SiS'^''tl, jiW k'"''»'"' "hic-h has Our ^.■ad^.•^^ will not roiii|.lain. iIht.- 

tlir^ "* iigjifr aiiil fbwel for tlif iim- fore, if their Hilenii'Hi in a-riiin .-alk-'l to 

jMtiop- " ,',jj r,ndiea' Henevolent Cilx-le. Ibe siilijui't, aii'l u liltU- iirlili-n.linn i? Iht.- 

n'"'^°]tg,;„,J|»e*trieiiioi>nii( with the mafic to ihi- vitv iil.l.- nti.l .-xi-.-ll.'in iirii- 

B*_J^'^«,le foWinjr <bor». >■!.■ h, ..„r hisl;' .-s|..-.iiilly in .■..nuntioii 

'*«* ■ii'G'"''''" f""* "eats oiev one with the ai'ioiii|i^inyiiii; I'k-iaiinn or thi^ 

Aon#»«Kl •'""*■ ""* '"'''""''"J-' ■'"■ ""■•"■"- boiisi' of wcrsihii. jn-r .iv*.Tlln-.l. 

jl it perhaps eiioii)fli In nay of iht- Vcnlila'ioii i» prvlly wi-ll >in hh-.I in 

rtru.'ti'""' ''">' within thn-e y.-;irs;it^vr ils inovjiensiv.'. 'riirir iin- two ■■liii.iiiii.>.oin- 

,«flipl«"''"' '''"''tL-en ehnivhi-a bin! Hilojit- lliir in ent'h. 'I'lu'v nr,: In tin- iwi ■ur- 

fd il eiwnliall}' an a nunlel. The i'nlii*e ours of tbi> miilllory n|>]iii:iiti: lln- pni|'il. 

f^. ini-liiiling o^^ati, cariietin;! and rush- Tht- iihi^ierlii;; iind thr >iili'.^ nf th>- li;illil- 

ioniii}! thniu;:hoiit. j:m fixliires anil lur- in<! aiv at ch>1utu'i-» liirviii:: from t*i< vt 

sa<-e>i.wnslwi-ni.r thousand .blki-H. .!.[). .'i;,'hl in-h.-^ Innn ih.- wiill^^ nf ih.- rl,i,n- 

Towle, K:4i{., of llosron, wa» the xii'lii- nii's on eni'h F.id>-. and »]ii'n ihir^ int<i :h>' 

lect. Froui thin hri.-f j-kt-irh, we pass to nuic> ilinjiijih the ci'ilin;;. Into ihi* s]v,. !■ 

the main pnrposc of this artirle. aronnd I'nrh idiinin-'v, •!' il" jlnm- •>( ihf 

Ventilation in not n w-Icmp, hut n auditory a cliior aUmt t>vi-ue liy :-ivii'i'ii 

itudy. Fen [lointsarcsonndcnilooil and ini-hi-s oji.-n^ On i-ilhi-r -id<' of ilii- 

Ktllcd as to hi- always and invariably re- i-hanfid, in ihi' nuip-bnanl. a >lid.' i- inii-,U' 

liftblf. Vet surh h ihn piaetival inijior- six inrOits iiy tvn whiih (i|h-ii* inio ih^' 

trnieu of tbi- Kubjecl, thai it inu^t not Iw span' bflni-i-n thi- |ih>ti'riN>; and Itti.iril- 

let alone: and wIioi^v.t ran i'mitribul» in<: of iht- bnildin^' anil liias iaio tb.-a;ii.'. 

even a Utile, nlu^t nol withhold It. and if 'Hie lri.iF-d.K>r in lb.- b.'ll dok i'. inah- 



ray of lifiht, (hat li<;ht onjrht to shini' out. than the o]i.>niny. ami a II inir.', ^-llll 
It is in this way only that the end all de- imdii^s dvi-p i- w.-aivl m ibe imiut t 
8ir.-ean evi-r he rea.die.l. Bad air is a whi.'h r.-=.l> ujuhi ill.- th-.rof lb.- 
feariul k-allh destroyer, ami bnt v.-r>- wli.n the d.mr is slmt, and wlii.h-v 


de..k 
L-llh a 


little impnrily ex|><He» to thy woist n,- llanjii- of like depth around Ihe ..[K>ni 
nulbi. Dr. Hall, of S. Y., in his Journal pruvcnls the beating in of rain or 


il.-- 



1859.] VtntibOioH of CImtket. 371 

when the door is raised. To this door a and indeed w upward when windows and 

cord 13 attached and passing over puUies doors are open. It is always upward also 

drops down behind the organ from which when the attic and tower only are the 

place it is in the vmy command of the recipients ; and these spaces, in very cold 

sexton. weather, are generally quite sufficient for 

In the center of the ceiling is a window all needed ventilation. Unquestionably it 

of stained glass, six feet in diameter, were more complete if there were straight, 

which can be raised eight inches, opening smooth and lubricated ventiducts to each 

also directly into the attic. opening, and lighted fires were kept 

The vestries, which are all well above burning in their centers, well towards 

ground, but under the auditory, are twelve their tops, and properly constructed ejee- 

feet in the clear, anil are furnished with tors capped each of them ; therefore let 

openings twelve inches square in the whoever can, avail themselves of these 

sides of the rooms, protected l)y rolling best means to secure an end so desirable, 

blinds or slats ; and thus behind the plas- and they may not grudge a laige outlay, 

tering they connect with the attic. in consideration of the benefits to be thus 

This simple process for ventilation was realized. An<l yet let not those who can* 

adopted on the supi)osition that where air not have gas, nor furnaces, nor steeples, nor 

could get in, it could get out, and that it towers, nor money, despair of sei'uring very 

would go in the direction which the '' bal- good and very satisfactory ventilation in 

ance in exchange " might happen to favor ; their churches; and dwellings too, where 

and thurt circulation would be secured, indeed it is not less needed, especially in 

hence ventilation. No ventiducts, ejec- sleeping apartments. 

tors or mjectors, therefore, were made. Make your opening at the floor of the 

ExpBrience has proved the correctness of apartment to be ventilated equivalent to 

the above theory. There is always imme- si.\ inches or two feet square ; being laiger 

diate relief when the six vent^ators of or smaller, according to the number of 

the large vestry are 0{>ened, and unfjues- them and the dimensions of the room. 

tionaUy it wouhl be greater were they at Let the passage-ways or vent.ducts be as 

the floor, instead of being eight feet from direct, straight and uniform in size as may 

the floor. be convenient, diminishing, if at all, at 



The large window in the ceiling of the their outlet. But do not hesitate a 

anditory, opening directly into the attic, is ment to use your passage-ways, though 

•ubject to counter currents, «ind ^ometimes they must go quite round your building in 

seriously incommodes those who sit nearly their course, and be never so indirect or. 

under it. It should have a ventiduct to unccjual or rough, provided only there are 

the bell-<leck, if opened at all. But the openinus, and each successive one is 

openings around (he chimni^s and on higher than the last. Always have their 

either side of the pulpit are always opera- outlet, whether many in common or singly, 

liTe, efficient, and always in the right at the hiohk8T possiulk point. It 

direction — a downward current never may be in or by the side of the chimney, 

being known. And though the passage is or through the tower or turrets, or up 

■omewhat zigzag and very rough, and ventilating tubes through ejectors made 

varying much in <limens>ions, a heavy linen tor the purpose. They may go up between 

handkerchief is always turned up the studdings or in the spandrel of the stairs 

chimney ventilators in winter ; and with into the space in the entablature, and out 

more force if the floor in the bell-deik is through apertures cut in the plancier. 

raised. And strange as it may seem, this Create the openings, and be sure that the 

current is but a little less etlective in sum- outlets are as much as possible above the 

mer, when doors and windows are closed, inlets, and a circulatioD, and thus rentiUi- 



372 



a^eednf the WorU, 



[Oot. 



tion 18 certain. The cnrrent will be up- 
ward and hence outward ; and as a va(?uuin 
\a impossible in rooms as ordinarily I'on- 
structed, there will be an abundant sup- 
ply from without, even though no injec- 
tors are made. The air taken from its 
lower stratum will be forced up these, 
even rough and circuitous, passages by 
the miper-incnmbent pressure, which cre- 
ates a circulation where it is wanted, taking 
away the coldest air in wintt^r, thus greatly 
facilitating the wanning of the room ; and 
in like manner, taking away the foulest 
air in the summer, as that which is 
breathed in so warm an atmosphere rises 
very slowly, if at all, above the heads of 
the respirants. Wniilators in the reiliiig 
are hence of little worth, except to cool 
an overheated room in winter. It is bet- 
ter not to overheat, or quite as well, for 
the moment, to raise or drop a window. 
And this leads to the suggestion that win- 
dows should in all cases be protected by 
rolling blinds, an<l these should always be 
on the outside ; l>oth tor the pur|)osc of 
keeping out the heat of the i<un, and for 
the I'onvenience of regulatin;; the drafts 
of air. By a proper adjustment of the 
blinds alone, when thus constructed, very 
good summer ventilation <-Hn l)e secunid 
anil cool air prej^erved, by k<»eping the 
6/tW.t snuf/ly closed, and the windows a 
little open at top and bottom, nu/ht and 
day^ when the room is unoccupied. A 



very little attention in this direction woold 
save much discomfort during the hoora of 
religious service, and would save the wor^ 
shipper from many nodding assents to 
truths he does not hear. To construct 
windows in such form or of sach materiab 
as 1 1 pretdude the use of out«ide, rolling 
blinds, is not good e(*onomy, and cannot 
be justified as a matter of fancy or taste^ 
since it must be purchased so dearly. The 
great object of the sanctuary is too high 
and holy to be periled in the least for 
such a trifle. 

A sure and cheap mode of ventilating 
churches is to make the flue or flues of 
the chimney, of cast-iron pipes or of brick, 
round, as suggested in the valuable article 
above alluiled to, — build the chimney 
around it 8(|uare — leaving a greater or 
less space, as needed, bringing the two* 
near the top, together, giving them a 
common outlet ; — then opening at the floor 
into this air-chamber, a door, with coarM 
wire-netting to protect the parage ; or 
put in a register, and depend on this or 
them — winter and summer — and know that 
you have very goo<l ventilation. If this 
cannot be secunul in this form, realize it 
in other ways as nearly as may be. If 
planned for in the beginning, scarce a 
dollar's additional expense is calle<] for to 
H'alize the great object sought, viz: fresh, 
living, wakeful air to breathe in the house 
of the I^rd. 



Thk Creeds or the World.— The following classification of the inhabitants 
of the earth, according to creeds, is made by Dieterice, a very thorough and careful 
statistician of Berlin. Taking the number 1,300.000,000 as the total population of 
the earth, he classifies them as follows : 

Christians, 33.5,000,000, or 2.5.77 per cent. 
Jews, 5,000.000, or 0.38 per cent. 
Awiatic religions, 600.000,000, or 46.15 per cent. 
Mohaiuiuedan. 160.000,000, or 12.31 per cent. 
Pagans, 200 000,000, or 1.5.39 per cent. 
Total, 1.300,009,000, or 100 per cent. 

The 335,000,000 of Christians are again divided into — 

170,000,000 Roman Catholics, 50.7 per cent. 
89,000,000 Protestants, 26.6 per cent. 
76.000.000 Greek Catholics, 22.7 per cent. 
Total, 353,000,000, 100 per cent. 



1869.] 



AreMtedure and Okririian Prineiph. 



878 



ARCHITECTURE AND CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE.' 



BT BSY. OBOBOB P. MAOOUN, PASTOB AT DATENPOBT, IOWA. 



The following question, it is supposed, 
states the subject assigned for this Essay : 
Is there any standard by which Christians 
should be guided, as Christians, in build- 
ing homes and churches, as to degree of 
ornament and amount of expense ? or, in 
the absence of any positive and fixed 
standard, are there any principles which 
should guide them ? 

It is to bo admitted that no definite 
absolute standard can be found ; no one 
style, size, or cost of building which is 
becoming and right for every Christian 
household, and every Christian congrejza- 
tion. Families and congregations vary 
indefinitely in numbers and wants. Yet 
there are certain principles which ought 
to govern our domestic and sacred archi- 
tecture — Christian principles ; and the 
observance of these would remove those 
wide and strange contrasts now to be seen 
in our houses and churches. Lei it be re- 
membered that expense is discussed in 
this Essay only as affected by ornamenta- 
tion, not by cost of materials, labor, &c., 
&c. Where these are cheap, it may be 
consistent to erect a house or church of a 
style which would not be consistent where 
these are more cost) v. 

Is it not, then, one of these principles 

1 The following article was read as an Es- 
say, by appointment, before the General 
Association of Iowa, at Muscatine, June 3, 
1859, and its publication requested by vote. 
It took its occasion from a discussion in the 
Association at Dubuque, June, 1858, upon 
costly and richly ornamented churches. At 
first the subject of Congregational Church 
architecture and the application of Christian 
prineiplet thereto, was given to the writer. It 
was subsequently enlarged to cover the rela- 
tion of these principles also to domestic archi- 
tecture, i. e., the domestic architecture of 
Ckriatiam. 



that the real wants of a family or a con- 
gregation are to be provided for, before 
everything else V If there must needs be 
a choice, in any of the details of building, 
between an ornament and a comfort, — 
between something that will make the 
edifice beautiful, rich, or imposing, and 
something that will make it fit for its use, — 
we must secure the latter even with the 
loss of the former. To gratify the sense of 
beauty and the love of elegance is one 
sort of benefit to an individual or a con- 
gregation, but it is not among the most 
substantial and primary. The observance 
of this plain principle would not only re- 
move many architectural features of homes 
and sanctuaries which have been added at 
the cost of s[>ace, adaptation, and useful- 
ness ; but it would rase to the ground 
many stately, but undomestic and com- 
fortless residences, and many temples $o 
built for the worship of the Most High, ai 
to be astonishingly unfit for the purpose. 
A handsome front and surroundings se- 
cured at the sacrifice of that interior room 
and convenience which health, refine- 
ment, and mutual benefit and happiness 
require in a home ; carved facings and 
" trimmings," or a lofty spire, absorbing 
the means that hhould have made a church 
commodious ; or stained glass and decora- 
tions to correspond upon the walls, the 
roof, the galleiies, the slips, the pulpit, 
paid for with the money that should have 
made it a place in which God's word can 
be spoken with ease and heard with dis- 
tinctness : — these Christianity, at least 
Protestant Reformed Christianity, does 
not sanction. 

Is it not another Christian principle 
which should govern us, that our religiout 
wanti are to be proTided for, in a home or 



TOL.I. 



48 



374 



AreMteeiure and Chmiuin Prnwgtb. 



[Oat. 



a charch, before any and all others?^ If tecture — the plan and disposition of the 



our houses and churches are (siipposably) 
for no different object", and built with a 
spirit and shaping of the whole and its 
parts no different from those which men 
have who are not Christians, — in the erec- 
tion of edifices with which religion has 
nothing to do, — then this Essay has no 
subject and there is no light " sown for 
the righteous " in the direction in which 
we seek it. If the principle — ** whether 
yc eat, or drink, or what soever ye rlo, do 
all to the glory of (lod " — " do all in the 
name of the I^ord Jesus," *' as unto the 
Lord, and not as unto men " — has no ap- 
plication here ; if good men, in planning 
their houses, may *' make provision for the 
flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof," antl, in 
planning their churches, may be izovorned 



details — with the utmost particularity, 90 
as to secure our religious wants every- 
where above all others. There is no good 
style, fit for any edifice of a certain de- 
scription, which cannot secure the very 
objects, and all of them, which the edifice 
contemplates. If Gothic architecture, for 
instance, cannot be adapted to those con- 
veniences and useful inventions which be- 
long to a modem house, or to those which 
distinguish a Protestant Church, then it is 
no good style for eitlier. For it is the 
very mark of good architecture that it 
simply adds grace and nobleness to the 
proper purposes of the building to which 
it is applied. 

Is it not also a Christian principle, and 
another which should govern us heits, 



by " the lust of the eye and the pride of that our houses and churches ought not 



life," — then nothing, in either class of 
structures, should disclose the fact tluit 
they are built by, or for. Christian*'. If, in 
the house, every other thing has its place 
but ** the one thing needful " — rlosets for 
raiment and food, for the care of silks and 
sweetmeats, for instance, and no closets for 
prayer; rooms for bathing the body and 
none for the cleansing and prej)aration of 
the soul ; if, in the Church, tlie conven- 
ience of luxury and fashion has, by a 
thousand tokens, been consulted, instead 
of the wants of piety, aud if this is right, — 
then there is neither standard nor princi- 
ple to guide us in the matter. Is not, 
however, the godliness that is " profitable 
for all things,'* profitable for this thing V 
Recognizing the well-known dlstinctiun 
between building and architectnn?, it \\y\\ 
be said that religion can only govern the 
building of either sort of edifice in a rr^w- 
eral way, by causing it to l^e built for the 
glory of God, an<l the spiritual good of 
man ; fitness, ^trength, durability, &(>., 



to ab>orb materials, money, time, and 
whatever else is costly, which are called 
for by other, i. e. by religious objects. 
Necessity, indeed, may ofren warrant the 
using for one purpose what is equally ne- 
cessary for another — but necessity only. 
Ornament is not a necessity — is not a re- 
li^ious object, even when affixed to n 
place of worship. Nothing bears that 
cliaiacter but the experiences and acts of 
the soul. Architecture is defined, by the 
celebrated John Ruskin,* to be '* the art 
which so disposes and adorns the edifices 
raistnl by man, tor whatsoever uses, that 
the sight of them shall contribute to his 
mental health, power, and pleasure." Now 
gnoil an hitecture, if it l>e ever so plain 
and unpretending, will do ihi.-*. If the 
laws of proportion, symmetry, adaptation 
to place and light, suitableness and har- 
mony of coloring, and general efl'ect. Ihj 
attended to ; your buildiu'i will be en- 
noblcd and m:ide impressive and pleasing 
therebv, without endu'llishirig. .\nd this 



must be obtained aci'ording to the laws of eo-^ts noihing. As a general rule, bad 



building; — while it can govmi the archi- 

' This priociple will be undiT>t()od proptrly. 
There must be a roof to shelter us, of course, before 
there e«n be tinder it a plnce for prayer, iih beri>n! 
there can be a dining-room. 



architci ture, which neglects or violates 
these, costs most. But, this beinn se- 
cure<l, if, for purposes of humanity and 
grace, if for the heathen, the fdleii, the 
3 The Seren Lamps, &c., p. 7. 



1859.] 



ArehU&stwe ami Christian Principle. 



875 



enslayed, if for the sheer saving of souls 
by the Bible and the tract and the mes- 
senger sent forth, the dollar is clearly 
required which you would spend in add- 
ing embellishments to a building already 
decent, becoming, and convenient, you 
have no right thus to spend it. Only re- 
ligious objects, however, can be invested 
with a prohibitive claim so complete as 
this. The dwelling and the sanctuary 
stand for the highest culture and happi- 
ness of man. Personal pleasure and lux- 
ury cannot justly ask for the means with 
which a Christian is at liberty to make the 
dwelling; beautiful and memorable to the 
family. To gratify the lower desires, the 
appetite, to spend for plate, jewelry, dress, 
by what law of proportion are these fit- 
ting while one dwells within ignoble walls ? 
Korean public spirit, in all cases, justly 
demand this. For is that a high condi- 
tion of society in which elegant and mag- 
nificent public edifices for civic purposes 
are secured at the cost of mean habita- 
tions for the people ? Much more no un- 
religious object can justly claim that which 
should make the House of GofI, for spa- 
ciousness, for simple and pure beauty, and 
for convenient appointments, what it ought 
to be. I^t the question be between the 
court-house, the exchange, the school- 
building or the secular hall — and the sane- 
tuary — the latter has the frst right to he 
made handsome; God's house must ever 
be before man's. Let the (question be 
between God's house and ours. For which 
ought we to be most willing to make ex- 
penditure ? " Is it time for you, O ye, to 
dwell in your ceiled houses, and this 
house, the Turd's house, lie waste V" "I 
do not understand the feeling," says Mr. 
Rnskin,^ " which would arch our own 
gates and pave our own thresholds, and 
leave tlie Church with its narrow door 
and foot- worn sill ; the feeling which en- 
riches our own chambers with all manner 
of costliness, and endures the bare wall 
and mean compass of the temple. I am 

1 The punge U yerbftlljr abridged, from the SeTen 
lABI]W, fro., p. 16. 



no advocate for meanness of private habi- 
tation ; but I would not have useless ex- 
pense in unnoticed fineries; cornices of 
ceilings and grainings of doors, and fring- 
ing of curtains, and thousands such ; — 
things which have become foolishly and 
apathetically habitual ; things which cause 
half the expense of life* and destroy more 
than half its comfort, manliness, respecta- 
bility, freshness, and facility. I say this 
emphatically, that the tenth part of the 
expense which is sacrificed in domestic 
vanities, if not meaninglessly lost in do- 
mestic discomfort, would, if collectively 
offered, and wisely employed, build a 
marble church (were it desirable) for 
every town in England — such a church 
as it would be a joy to pass near in our 
daily walks, and as it would bring the 
light into the eyes to see from afar, lifting 
its fair height above the purple crowd of 
humble roofs." But while no other edifice 
has such claims upon us as God's house 
has ; the visible sanctuary is not that 
" building " of God which has the highest 
claims. There is a nobler building ; " ye 
are God's building," wrote Paul to the 
converted Corinthians. ** Ye are built up 
a spiritual house," wrote Peter to the 
elect. And when these two — the nobler 
and the inferior — at the same time claim 
our substance, we must not expend on the 
beautifying of the perishable, what can 
be used for the saving of the imperishable. 
We must not so build that we have put 
it out of our power to give to the suffer- 
ing, and promote the objects of Christian 
benevolence.' 

Is it not another principle which should 
guide us, that Christians are under obli- 
gation so to build as not to promote am- 
bition, pride, luxury, extravagance, and 
similar unsanctified tempers, and wrong 
ways in others ? As a city that is set on 
a hill cannot be hid, so a splendid man- 
sion erected by a follower of the lowly 

3 Oar architectural ezpenditarei '* ought feo be the 
sign5 that enough has been deroted to the great pur- 
poses of human stewardship, and that there rtmmm 
to us what we oan spend in luxury."— JZiwIrJii. 



876 



ArehiUdwrt and Chrigtian Prmcgrie. 



[OCE. 



Jems can bat sanction a ^irit and stimu- 
late a course of life in other men, which 
the religion of Chn»t aims directly to re- 
press. And the term " splendid *\ in this 
connection, is so far relafiTc in meaning, 
that an ediBce and appurtenances which 
would be deemed only respectable in 
some places, may be stamped with the 
character and exert all the influence of 
extravagance in others. Moreover as or- 
naments are allowable in a dwelling 
which are not allowable in a church — 
both more of them and of a different char- 
acter — so will elaborate and costly em- 
bellishment in churches have a more mis- 
leading and corrupting efl'ect U[>on the 
people than any other. It exaggerates 
the tone and enlarges the range of all 
f octal finery and excess. For one mark 
of luxury and meretricious di:>play found 
in the house of worhhip which certain men 
and women attend, vou shall find a dozen, 
— so f-ir as they have means for them, — 
in their houses. Men who have built or 
who mean to build, extravagant houses, 
love to have extravagant churches built 
to keep them in countenance. 

It is very often said in defence of 8u<'h 
expenditures in domestic architecture, " If 
one has the means, he has the right to use 
them ; it is his liberty." Does this exhaust 
the subject V It is matter of responsibil- 
ity, as well as of liberty. And a Chris- 
tian is not *"• at liberty " to use his means, 
however ample, in any way forbidden by 
his obligations to religion, the Church, 
and a perishing world. The author of 
*' Star Pa]>ers " uses this argument ^ in 
defence of indul^in;; a taste for the beau- 
tiful in art. *' A wealthy Christian should 
be srenerous with himself, and his family." 
Yes ; but he should also be generous with 
others, and with the cause of God ; and 
if it is generosity he exercises towards 
himself and his, rather than selfishness, he 

I A Home Mi«<loDary in Ohio or iDdtaok would iiot 
b*Te UMd thb Krgumvot m dnra the popular prfach- 
er «lch Ub uagnifli-ent Income from bU generoua 
pftrUh, his bookj, his lectures, enabling bim to giTe 
at a liberal heart lists to erery g»od cause. The sub- 
ject is not seen firom the aame ** point of vleir." 



will exercise it toward aO other objadiai 
well. -*Thedome4icafiectioDt,''nidJiM^ 
Ston-. (2 Howard. U. S. Rep. 149,) **are 
selfish, therefore the divine anthor of oar 
religion enlar^ged the precept, mod tanghl 
us to love man as man, to love cor neigh- 
bor as oarseU'et.** This argoment abro- 
gates all restraint, and obliteratea all lim- 
itation ufion personal expendiiure. ** If 
one has the means for a magni6cent house, 
let him use them." A sound law, doabt- 
less, if he has them in God*s intention 
simply for the having, and is himself, in- 
dependently of God, to decide the using; 
but if he is a steward herein, and God has 
already decided the proper ose before 
giving them, and Christ's direction is, 
" Occupy " — for my pleasure and Ike 
tcorlffs good — ** till I come," and he has 
them for this, and ^ it b required of stew- 
ards that a man be found faithful ;" 
then there is no such flowing license, no 
such wide margin of indulgence for the 
sentiment of the beautiful at the cost of 
moral interests and convictions. Still a 
margin there is for the home and the 
family — it is no pinched and starveling 
doctrine Christianit}' holds — but it is a 
m'irgin for use, not for mere grati6cation. 
It is a nwflerate margin. If it be not so, 
then, as we sav, there is no limitation 
whatever within the means possessed — 
the Christian who is worth S25,000 may 
expend $5,000 upon his dwelling, — if he 
be worth $100,000 he may expend $25.- 
000, — ho who-je property equals $200,000 
may expend $50,000, — he who has $500,- 
000 may devote to it S100,000, and the 
millionaire $200,000,— $300,000, or $500,- 
000. There is a limit, however, to the 
heuppcial use of money in this way. These 
extra thousands, tens, hundreds of thou- 
sands, secure no improvement, happiness, 
or even comfort which a few thousands 
could not secure. No individual, no fam- 
ily can so absorb good by piling up ex- 
pense, even were it right Apply the 
argument to food as well as to dwellings. 
Because a Christian ** has the means," 
should he accumulate food from oTorjr 



1859.] 



ArduUeture and ChrUiian Prmeiple. 



877 



climtt ad libitum, everything, I do not say 
that is luxarious and costly, but every- 
thing that is healthful and delicious ? Is 
there no constraint or longruity, coQ>is- 
tency, self-denial ; no regard for the condi- 
tion and wants of others ; no serious in- 
tent of keeping himself in sympathy with 
the masses, and free to give his attention 
and bounty to the sufTeringf the vicious, 
and the unevangolized V 

It is oflen said that a Christian must 
build like uther men, as to expense, ac- 
cording as the style of architecture in 
which he builds may require. But has he 
any right, in the circumstances, to choose 
a style of architecture regardless of ex- 
pense ? is he to be governed solely by 
taste? Simply to gratify an architectu- 
ral preference has he any right to '* tie 
np ** thousands with which Christ requires 
him to be doing good V What is to be 
supreme in him — I do not say the man of 
taste or the Christian ? — but, some mere 
idiosyncracy of taste (for there is as good 
taste in moderately expensive styles, as in 
any,) or Christian and humane principle ? 
One might as well attempt to get up, for 
some Christian friends, an entertainment 
after the style of a Queen's *' reception," 
or a Presidential '^ levee," and excuse the 
absorption of his means of benevolence 
and subsistence therein by saying he was 
only carrying out the thing according to 
its design, as to lavish superfluous thou- 
sands upon a house, and say he is '* only 
carrying out the idea — the architectural 
design requires it" For other purposes 
of God those thousands are not superflu- 
DOS. The wrong step is taken in adopt- 
ing any such idea or design. 

Then it is said that rich and costly 
houses give Christians who dwell in them 
increased influence among worldly per- 
sons of wealth and standing. Everything 
has an influence afler its kind. You can- 
not transfer it from one sort of thing to a 
thing of another sort. Splendor, and 
even eminence, does not exert the proper 
inflaence of piety ; — does not increase the 
inflnence which belongs to piety itself 



Such accessories but increase opportanity 
and secure attention. Splendor influ- 
ences after its kind ; piety after its kind. 
The owner of a fine house will not, by 
any means, put forth spiritual power in 
the proportion in which his house exhibits 
taste, and has absorbed money. These 
will only give him the power of money 
and taste; personal spirituality must give 
him the other power. Moral influence is 
that subtle force of individual character 
which must flow out before it flows in. It 
is first eflluence. And that only flows 
out which is there, in the character, to 
flow out Objects of ornament and cost 
have no effluence of spirituality, therefore 
no influence. And the increase of oppor- 
tunity and attention only increases the re- 
sponsibility of a good man to exert the 
separate influence of piety; never in- 
creases the power of his piety itself. 
Moreover the eminence or splendid sur- 
roundings of such a man may only give 
him opportunities he is unprepared to 
improve, and call attention not so much 
to his piety, as to his lack of it somewhat. 
They may be so out of proportion as to 
overbalance it. He would himself do 
something for God ; but the style he lives 
in does more for the world. He would 
** show piety at home," but his home shows 
too much of that which eats away piety. 
Mrs. Stowe, in describing the conversa- 
tion between Aaron Burr and ** Mary,** 
during the wedding-party at General 
Wilcox's, points out the contrast between 
her *' worldly attire and the religious 
earnestness of her words ; " the " rich bro- 
cade " exerted no religious influence upon 
Burr — her words alone furnished that, 
and her dress a purely worldly influence, 
— and the contrast between these pro- 
duced just what Mrs. S., with just philo- 
sophic and Christian insight, describes as 
^^ a pleased artistic perception of the con- 
trast." Two extremes are observable in 
the houses of worldly persons, — one, where 
every thing is shaped so as to make or 
save the most money — irrespective of 
comfort, improvement, character, lia|^* 



1859.] 



ArcMtedwrt and Chmtkm Prmeiple. 



$7« 



want that perfect 6tnes8 and simplicity 
which leaves the people, undiverted, to 
attend to the solemn and heart-searching 
business for which they assemble. It is 
said, indeed, that if we have no more than 
this, men will not be attracted to our 
churches. I^'t it be understcxyl, then, 
that if a rational Christian oratory, and 
devout, flexible worship, and the disclo- 
sure of the human heart's deepest needs, 
and aspirations, and the truth which com- 
mends itself to every man's conscience, 
and the blessinjrs which a Protestant 



Christian Chur-h e<UficeM. would go very li'tle way 
towanln teachlni; even a natural thooloj^y. It rouid 
never heromn an eTanxftL^m, and If It preponJerAtt'd 
over thf» worship and the tearhinjr. wouM eventually 
become a luxury. It may i^ecure a good subjective 
effect in the artl-»t, but will impart no obji'rfive spir- 
itukllxini; power to hi* work. If we ar|:uir that th«»re 
i« a *' go-pel of beauty," it Is a v^ry limirel g'M'pel, 
furthers not p»r s^, the real (gospel, and >«houl i have 
limited «pare. (2) The naturHl ftcti* th(>m«elvc9 have 
a still purer eff^e: than the artistic representation of 
them ; yet even thi« is not the spiritual effect we ne«d 
in the Church. "The great architect," says Mr. 
Raskin, (I^ect. on Arch, and Fainting. Addenda, p. 
M) " must, be a great s<-ulptor or painter." Suppose 
he is, suppose e. g. he decorates the Church with 
*' organic f<»nn«/'— flower-form*, for instrtnce,— ex- 
quisitely don© with rhisel or with color, and fault- 
lessly piai ed for effecr. The natunl flowers in their 
place, are fitted to a more rtUgioun . ffect They show 
as Go J*s work itself, whi h is even better than man's 
delight in it. We love to !«ef them. A va(M» of prairie 
flowers on a Wf^tfm pulpit U as icratetul as, in our 
own experience, it Is common. But is Miere much 
evangelionl Influ nre thereifi? And -till. -as Pre*. 
Hopkins shows in hi^ be.iuMfnl armament on "The 
Connection between Ta««te and Mornls,"'— •• the culti- 
vation of thf fine arts has l^xs tendency than a t:iste 
for natural ol«j.«cfs to improve the rh^racrer '' It is 
•* fnvora^de to momls " rafh'-r than mor«i. \* is 
never Christian. (3) Mu- h art effect in Church is 
a mrntal intemiptinn. It i" no* uituml fact the soul 
wants there, hw supernaMir.il redenipMon.— ttie 
beauty, not of vegetat-le or animnl foMno, but of the 
Saviour's f ice ; the power, not of irstheti", but of 
evangelical emotini. The archie cture stands on the 
same footing with tin* mu^ic nnd rhe ontory of the 
Cbareh ; it should help the pr -per experience of the 
truth pondered, and nor hinder hy intruding irs own. 
Mr. Ruskin has thoronjchiy dispelled. (lx?<!t. An-h. 
and Faint., pp. 37-39) the fnn> rimt rtie " heavm- 
pointiug .-pi re" v^hich char«cteriies Gothic archi- 
tecture is '• expressive of religious aspiration. ' Quite 
as easy would It be for one of h.s genius, in-ight, and 
nuwtery of style, to dispel tlie fancy ih.tt ri b and 
delightful art, in Church, aidj* religious effect. Rvery- 
thlBf worka apon mind a/Ur its ktnd. 



Christianity sheds all abroad, — if tfaeae 
cannot attract, it is not our business, by 
other appliances, to play upon human 
nature on the Siabbath and in the Church. 
But '' other denominations will,'* it is said, 
*^ attract by these other appliances, and 
all therefore must, if not for religion's 
sake, then for self-<lefense.'* This argu- 
ment is beneath an answer from a Con- 
gregation alist Would that the shade of 
some devout Puritan might arise and make 
reply ! Would that a profound know- 
ledge of the human soul, and what is per- 
manently, not to say in the true sense, 
spiritually powi^rful over it, were pos.'«*8sed 
by those who thus argue. ** Raise me but 
a barn," says one, " in the very shadow 
of St. Paul's cathedral, and with the 
conscience-searching powers of a White- 
field I will throng that barn with a mul- 
titude of eager listeners, while the matins 
and the vespers of the cathedral shall be 
chanted to the statues of the mighty dead.** 
It is a part of our duty, as the historic 
representatives of those who deserted 
gothic ar(>hes and antrient minsters, to 
wake 

'' the tnuoding aislea of the dim woods " 
with the voice of psalm and prayer ; and 
who, in th*' uncouth meetini»-houses of the 
first half-century af\er The Landing, 
gathered almost the whole living popula- 
tion — something which the elaboratelv 
beautiful temples of no part of the land 
can accomplish now ; — to show that mighty 
religious sincerilv and fervor, and the 
unction of the Holy Ghost, and gospel - 
wisdom on the preacher's lips can do what 
architecture never can. It is said, again, 
that -' our comparative denominational 
respectability requires this outlay in em- 
belHshm«'nt/* When we have gone so 
far from the spirit of John Robinson*s day 
that we let our ** respectability " lean 
back on such a prop, it may be reverently 
doubted whether Jesus Chri.st has any 
more use for the Congregational branch 
of His house. It is said that ** men will 
give more, for religious obje(;ts, in costly 
churches thftn in plain onei^'* By what 



380 



ArtMttdmre <mi Ckridian Prute^pie. 



[Oct. 



phikMophy does this come trae ? Do thej 
give more (according to their means) in 
costly dwellings than in plain ones ? Do 
laxnrious and selfish arrangements — pri- 
vate or public — naturally open or liberal- 
ise the heart ? A brother of large expe- 
rience for an important Christian enter- 
prise — which sends him through half a 
dosen of our States — informs me that pre- 
cisely the reverse is true. They who have 
built extravagantly, houses or chun-hes, 
are least liberal in proportion. " I see 
why you never g^ive to Missions/' said a 
collector on being shown into the splen- 
did parlors of an Eastern Q^ristian, '' you 
cannot afford it** It is said that '* men 
will give more /or such churches, if not in 
them ; that worldly men will give who 
would not otherwise. But if it is not 
Christian for us to expend great sums so, 
can it be Christian to do it for the sake of 
getting others to do likewise V It is said 
that '' it does men good to expend thus, 
* not the gift/ indeed, » but the giving/ " 
This point is made by Mr. Ruskin, in 
an argument more brilliant and ensnaring 
than has ever been constructed by any 
other thinker.^ He sets forth the Lamp 
or Spirit of Sacrifice as that which 
** prompts to the offering of precious 
things, merely because they are precious, 
not because they are useful or necessary. 
Of two kinds of decoration equally effec- 
tive it would choose the more elaborate, 
because it was so, in order that it might in 
the same compass present more cost and 
more thought. It is therefore most un- 
reasoning and enthusiastic, and perhaps 
best negatively defined, as the opposite of 
the prevalent feeling of modern times, 
which desires to produce the largest re- 
sults at the least cost/* Costliness, he 
urges, was an essential element of every 
form of sacrifice in the Old Dispensation 
made to please God, *» Neither will I offer 
unto the Lord my God of that which doth 
cost me nothin<;,** said David to Araunah. 
And then he shows that neither art nor 
splendor was " necessary" to the object of 
1 in sbap of ** Th« 8«T«a Umft.» 




the tabernacle or the temple, and jot i^ 
was required — as an external sign 
membrance fnd gratitude 
surrender of men*s treasures to Jebovali ; 
they were to present to Him **' the thooghl 
that invents and the hand that labon, 
wealth of wood and weight of stone« 
strength of iron and light of gold." We 
are glad of any method to bleed our prev- 
alent modem (religious) parsimony, bat 
we need not increase the cost of charch- 
building to do it 1 There are better ob- 
jects, and more spiritual methods — plen^ 
of them. Besides, while the consecration 
of our best to God*s service is of lasting 
obligation, the manner of it changes. 
The splent/or of the temple was not ci 
permanent obligation, any more than the 
form thereof, or the ritual practiced there- 
in. These all were spiritually useful then, 
not now. (1) That age, compared with our 
own, was a barbaric age, when outwanl 
impression was everything. (2) There was 
no Jewish style of architecture, and it be- 
ing dangerous to copy a Gentile style,(even 
if they in their isolated condition could 
have done so), there was a needs be that 
God prescribe an architecture. The pat- 
tern of the tabernacle had to be shown Mo- 
ses in the Mount, and the details of the 
temple enjoined upon Solomon. (3) Eveiy 
thing was done, in this splendid temple, 
to please God ; every thing is done in ours 
to please taste. The God of our archi- 
tecture is not celestial, but Aesthetic. (4) 
They had not, could not have, an aggres- 
sive evangelism like ours to which to con- 
secrate what was precious. The temple 
must receive the gold and silver and 
shittim-wood as the only religious outlet 
for the spirit of sacrifice in such things. 
(5) The essence of the directions to Israel 
was to be generous to the Lord*s cause, 
and this we still must be, and can be, more 
effectively, in other ways. 

And now, all other arguments for or- 
nate and costly churches being exhausted, 
if it is said, as it is said, — that they educate 
the architectural taste of the people, the 
reply is, — ^that it is not a Church object 



1869.] 



Areh&edvre and Christian Prineiple. 



881 



—especially it is not with tw. " Archi- 
tecture is the bejrinnin;j of arts," it is 
ui^d, — all the others follow that, and 
flourish best, as that doc:!i, in the service 
of religion. Let us seek this •* lower ad- 
vantage " therein, if not the higher.* That 
argument is for other communities than 
ours ; for those that, of purpose, mingle the 
worldly with the spiritual, and have a 
theory that this is the best way to promote 
religion. It is for those who cultivate 
taste even to the imperilling of piety. It 
is not an argument for Contrretj^ational 
lips. 

Two or three objections to unlimited 
expense in churches come to notice fiere. 
They are patent and grave. One is the 
nndne prominence it give.n to money, and 
mere monied men. You can raise large 
means, up to a certain point of cost and 
ornamentation, from large numbers of men 
in ordinary circumstances. The masses 
will build ** churches for the masses." 
The proportion given by persons of opu- 
lence will not too much preponderate. 
Beyond that it will. In the Methodist 
Discipline, Part 2, Sect. 2, are the follow- 
ing question and answer. *' Q>ies. Is 
anything advisable in regard to building V 
Ans. Let all our churches be built plain 
and decent, with free seats ; but not more 
expensive than is absolutely unavoidable, 
— otherwise the necessity of raising money 
will make rich men necessary to us. Bnt 
if sOj we must he dependent on them^ yea^ 
and he governed hy them. And then, tare- 
well to Methodist discipline, if not doc- 
trine too." 

Another objection is, that great expense 
and embellishment almost always neces- 
sitates a Church debt. Some say, " well, 
create a debt, build a house for genera- 
tions to come, and let them pay their 
quota for the house ; it is to be theirs as 
well as ours." But (1) who wouM do 
that in »the case of a dwelling? Who 
would bequeath his children a debt on a 
splendid mansion, if he could build sulH- 
ciently well, within his means V (2) Does 

1 Raskin, p. 16. 
TOL. I. 49 



God require a congregation' to erect an 
ornate structure which, neither from their 
own resources, nor from charity, they 
can pay for? God unquestionably re- 
quires of every congregation such a house 
that all to whom they ought to give the 
gospel can hear it therein ; and many of 
our contyrefrations are sinfuUv behindhand 
in this regard. But much ornament is 
not necessary to the preaching and hear- 
ing of the gospel. What any people 
ou;:ht to build, as a rule, they can get paid 
for. The history of our Church-Building 
Fund proves this. (3) A share in the 
original cost (though the principal and 
interest of a debt) need not be laid upon 
those who come after us, in order to give 
them obligations to meet. The more we 
do, — thoroughly, — fixing and widening 
the influence of the local Church, the 
more our successors will have to do, and 
pay for. More work makes work for 
more. But if some portion of their means 
is absorbed in doing part of our duty — 
left by us undone — or in meeting obliga- 
tions which we ought not to have created, 
some portion of their own duty will, in 
consefjaence, be left undone. Therefore 
Mr. Wesley took strenuous precautions 
against chapel debts, and forbade agents 
going out of their circuits to collect funds 
to discharge them.' Our Church-Building 
Fund rules provide that every congrega- 
tion aided shall have its house free from 
debt. I low will it look to have the fee- 
blest ofour churches exempt, worshipping 
in humble chapels unincumbered, and the 
strongest and wealthiest occupying edi- 
fices that ape cathedrals (in style, not in 
size) loaded down with pecuniary obliga- 
tions ? What will be the influence of 
this on religion ? Or, to step a moment 
on higher ground, shall it be said that the 
precept, " Oive no man anything," is not 
of still more solemn obligation on church- 
es than on persons ? Does not avoidable 
disrcjiarJ of it work more mischief there 
than in private atl'airs ? 

Another — and a conclusive — objection 

t DiMlpline, Bd. N. York, 18M, p. 168. 



382 



'Arehitedvre and Chridian PrineipU. 



[OciL 



is that such church edifices must exclude pulpits distributed throughout its immeiiBe 



lenirth. When shall ive see a revival of 
zeal for the Lord's House that shall give 
it some size ? There is nobleness in that 
alone witliout the aid of art Great 
crowds of worsihippers too are themselves 
a great attractipn. The popular heart 
flows that way. Large congregations 
'* are a ieeling.*' And on the other hand 
the masses will not come where they know 
that not even standing room has been 
provided them. Mr. Beecher and Mr. 
Spurgeon are doing something to open 
our eyes in this matter. * Our miniature 
church boxes, tricked out with upholstery 
and other finery, are, in a just and sober 
CliHbtlan judgment, contemptible. Tliey 
show how small desire we have to evan- 
jiolize the masses. They are one cause 
of the vast bo<lies of heathen in Christian 
cities.'' Let us say little about non- 
attendance and — about " l>»'ggarly account 
of empty boxes " — so long as the boxes 
themselves are so beggarly in size ! What 
Methodism secures by itinerancy — viz^ 
hearing of the gospel by the largest num- 
ber within a certain district, the Puritans 
aiiiied at also, but in another way, — by 
<'omnio<Hous edifices,* — the people com- 
ing to the preacher, rather than the 
preacher riding round to the people. And 
they Cfime. The house was for the future, 
as well as the present population, within 
a cir.'uit of miles. It was so much larger 
than wo build, at the same time that the 
populaiion was so much less, because the 

^Olx-rlin, Ohio, ban long bt-eo a noble exMitple nf 
the ri;?ht w«y. A ?anctuar.v whose c«paeitj U oeariy 
thre»f rhousaud, built wlieii rhe M>ttIeDi«'nt ha<l a frv 
huiidrels. The new (proposed) l*ioe Sfn^t and Wo- 
l>urn rhunhes ar« late*, but ^iwd «*X3iUipU'S of revlMd 
C<>ngrc;;^ationHl (^hrifiiiaiiity on tliio point. 

• London his 2,000,(X)0, NVw York has 400,000, ftw 
w)i(>ni there nrr no sittins^x : PhiUdelphid 300,000. 

' Thrro are objeotioni* to himxt-a searl' g fire and 

i>ix th«)uf«;iiid, whirh do not hold against thoM seat- 

iMjf two or thrve thoummd. The onl.v object Inn of 

an> Inrrp tip.iinst these la.«t ** no man ran exereiw 

pa.-tor<il care over 8o many "—is rhu* anmwered by a 

journaliiit : — " It U not a que-«ti4>n betii-e<>n a certain 

ifl as attractlTe ai* i8 pre^up{Kl^icd, tho Hize ^llOuld he number haying patttoril care or not h.iTingit ; bat 

larger. ber>»'een a great uiultitu le having the gospel or DOC 

'* '^ The most ffubstantial and noble structure in having it." One can be a pajstor to Just m maoj, If 

Polynesia." he is a preacher to more. 



the poor. They must needs he too small j 
that is one thing. What is given to use- 
less beauty is taken from space and con- 
venience. Small church-buihlings, spe- 
cially in large towns, are un-Congrega- 
gational. Our fathers in the " colonial " 
wildernesses seldom built a house that 
would hold less than a thousand ; ot\en 
provided for a considerable portion of the 
second thousand. We, two centuries la- 
ter, in the dense aud wealthy cities, con- 
fine ourselves to the capacity of a few 
hundreds. * When the sanctuar}' of the 
First Church in Northampton was built, 
the accessible population was much 
smaller than now. Uelativfly, in cases 
not a few absolutelv, the oldest sanctuaries 
in New England are the largest. It 
would be instruirtive to know how many 
parishes have pulled down capacious old 
edifices, and built jiftr and stnall. ■ We 
seem to admit, bv our dc<reneracv in this 
thing, that we do not expert tue im:opi.e 
to worship with us and that w*^ make no 
provision forth<* |>o<jr. Wc ought at once 
to return hv iii»' way wc came. The 
half-enli<zhti'n«'il islaiiders of the Pacific 
shame us in this regard. The chapel at 
Raiatea in the South Seas is more than a 
hundred feet in lenjjth, and forty-two, in 
width — holdinjr twentv-four hundred hear- 
ers. The chapel at Iluahine is sixty feet 
bv one hundred. The Stone Church at 
Lahaini, on Hawaii.' is sixty-two feet by 
ninety-eight, with galleries, seating — in 
the native manner — three thousand. 
There is one at Kailua scventy-ei<:ht feet 
by one huntlre«l and ei<j;htv: one at Hon- 
olulu ^ixtv-three. bv one hundred and 
ninetv-MX. There is one orj Tahiti seven 
hundred and twelve feet long; with three 

1 The avtjrage rupuritw)f eyanp'lirMl chuich edi- 
iires iu L/iudon is eigiii hundred " iiarel> U any viol- 
em city rhtnch^tvtn of ilu largest f.'a.sjs, Cc»pul»le of 
seating uiori- tlmn twelve or fifteen htintlred." 

- And nearly aiwa^p the diminished ^i/,e is U-r the 
sake of Hffording more ornament ; while if ornament 



1859.] 



Arehiteeture and Christian Principle. 



383 



whole style of the piety of our fathers was 
80 much larger. Great advance move- 
ments in religion always enlarge the con- 
gregations, and the houses in which they 
assemble as well. Decline in piety con- 
tracts both. We need not the *' broad 
Church *' but broad churches — with am- 
ple nave, and spacious galleries, and mal- 
titudinous pews where " the rich and 
poor " may " meet together." The edi- 
6ces we object to exclude the poor, again, 
by the cost of sittings ; that is another 
thing. Boston is said to have ** ample 
Church accommodation" for the popula- 
tion, yet the current expenses of worship 
in many of the Congregational churches 
average $100 each Sunday, and in one 
of the Episcopal churches $200.^ »' The 
average rent of a decent pew in the New 
York churches is in the neighborhood of 
$60 per annum." * The annual tax on 
pews in the Boston churches, Congrega- 
tional, Episcopal and Unitarian, (addi- 
tional to cost) varies from $48 to $75. 
Very naturally it is the Church whose 
pew-rent is lowest (Pine St. $48,) which 
undertakes by building larger to reduce it 
fiity per cent., and thus furnish the gospel 
to those of small means. This is the only 
method. To attempt to obviate the evil by 
"class" churches — these for the rich, 
those for the poor — is even worse than 
radically un-Congregational, it is intense- 
ly un-Christian. That the " poor" church- 
es are " reared by the charity of Christian 
persons," says Pres. Woolsey, ** makes no 
difference in the principle." Another 
miserable effect of ornate churches is the 
style of dress they beget. This drives away 
many, even, who are not poor. Our gew- 
gaw city sanctuaries provoke to finery.* 
There is much "dressing for church " 
which cannot be distinguished from dress- 



1 BoKtOD Transcript, May 5, 1858. 

s Journal of Commerce. 

* Few American ladie<« who attend them hare the 
food Mnpe of the excellent Queen of Holland, who 
attended the American chapel, Paris, in unpretend- 
ing costnme, putting to shame ladies from England 
Aod the U. S., who had come to see her there, tricked 
out in their moet ezpendTe and flann&ig attire. 



ing for the ball room. Two fashionable 
Episcopal journals were stirred up re- 
cently to reprove *' communicants who 
extend a jewelled hand and arm to re- 
ceive the Holy Communion." There be 
things like these which 

" Make God^s poor almost an exiled race 
Eren from the open temples of His grace." 

Two MiUiofU. 

If we travel in that direction much long- 
er, American cities will be like Paris, 
where the churches, travellers tell us, are 
** dedicated to art, and music, and show." 
Respectable families already give, as the 
reason why they stay away from God's 
house, that they " cannot dress well 
enough." One has said that *' there is no 
place where one feels so keenly the infe- 
riority of shabby apparel " — the place 
where he should think least of it. ** Many 
a man who attends the opera with com- 
parative comfort, shrinks from the criticisms 
of church-goers upon his dress. If much 
going to Church is necessary to salvation, 
more men and women will be kept out of 
heaven by seedy broadcloths and faded 
gowns than is dreamed of in oui theology." 
And though wc preach on the duty of 
dressing plainly in the house of God, as 
we ought to do, people will not dress so, 
as long as the house itself is anything but 
plain. 

The reply to this objection may be that 
the magnificent edifices of Catholic Eu- 
i"t)pe are resorted to by the poor. But 
you cannot conclude from what is true 
under conditions of despotism and super- 
stition, to what will be true under condi- 
tions of free, intelligent Protestantism. In 
Catholic Europe the cathedral is the only 
place where the poor man can feel that 
he is at all on a par with the rich. He 
performs the same ceremonies, kneels in 
the same open nave or chancel, before 
the same altar. Dress is little noticed in 
the crossings and bowings and genuflex- 
ions. But in Protestant America all is 
reversed. The poor man feels more on a 
par with the rich, at almost any other 
time and in almost any other place, than 



884 



ArtMtedvre and Christian Prindpk. 



[Oat. 



when he sits a leisurely spectator in his 
pew, and observes his iH'i<!;hbor*s changes 
of Sunday raiment It is absolutely cer- 
tain that if we build chur4:hos which sug- 
gest and sanction brilliant and exj)ensive 
attire, it will not be true in them that 
" the rich and poor meet together." 

Another objection is th-it all this ex- 
penditure prevents our having such a 
Church Buildini; fund as we ou;;ht to 
have. After all proper allowance for cost 
of site, &c., &e., in cities, can it he right 
for a single church to expend more in 
one edifice than the whole denomination 
to which it belongs raises to furnish tem- 
ples for those who have none ? Three 
years since* it was found that seven hun- 
dred Presbyteiian chun-hes (O. S.) — 
more than one fifth of the whole — were 
without places of worship, and at the late 
meeting of the General Asseniblv it was 
announced that five hundred and fifty- 
three churches, out of two thousand two 
hundred and sixty-seven — one fourth — 
are still unprovided. At the same time, 
a single city Church — that of Dr. Spring, 
the »'New Brick,"— has cost $230,000, 
while the whole (O. S.) body has raised 
for Foreign Missions — its largest charity — 
but $224,000. *' Do the people need 
place to pray V* asks Mr. Kuskin. " Then 
it is no time for smoothing jiillars or carv- 
ing pulpits. Let us have enough fi r^it of 
walls and roofs." The people do need 
*' place to pray," in all evangelical de- 
nominations. Can we wonder that it is 
thought to be a sin and a shame for the 
wealthier Societies to lavish thousands 
afler thousands upon ornament, while the 
Church Buildin;: Fund is incomplete? 
Cromwell is said to have found some cost- 
ly statues of the apostles in an English 
Church: — "Melt down these fellows." 
said he, ** am] send them about like their 
Master, doing good." 

Another objection is suggested by the 
moral effect of such churche-*. Though 
architecture cannot spiritualize, it can 
unspiritualize. Decoration in the Church, 
for decoration's sake, is religiously emascu- 



lating. It is inconsistent with Chrittiaii 
simplicity. It betokens decay in the bet- 
ter nature. It fosters pride. It distarbs 
and dilutes the spiritual eleuient, — mixing 
a certain per 4'entage of refined material* 
ism with it. It fosters pride. We should 
build, as our fathers did, " not houses to 
worship, but only houses to worship in." 
It can teach wrong views and perpetuate 
them. '' The spirit of Romanism,*' says 
Professor Park,^ ** is now perpetuated by 
her old massive churches more than by 
her folios." Methodism is at this day 
losing nlore, as a distinctive, earnest 
evangelism, by her Church structures 
than in any other way. As every g^reat 
advance of piety — witness the Reforma* 
tion, Puritaniitm, the Wesleyan move- 
ment — brings together great crowds of 
plainly-dn^ssed people ; so it builtls larger 
and plainer churches. With ey^ry de- 
cline they become smaller and more 
ornate. The former do not need the little 
finicalities and architectural dandyisms of 
inferior temples, aesthetically" or spirit- 
uallv. And the Christian Future will 
wonder at the costlv architectural abomi- 
nations in which more than one Congre- 
gational brotherhood has consented, of 
late, to entomb its simplicity, humility, 
and spirituality. As the impression of 
the houvse is part of the impression which 
the parents who built it make upon their 
children, — part of the effluence and in- 
fluence of their character, — so the impres- 
sion of the Church edifice not only mingles 
with the services as conducted by the 
minister, but is part of the impression 
which the Church itself, as a body of 
Christians, makes upon the congregation 
and the vvorld. It conveys character, the 
character which that body of Christians 
hav»r put, or allowed the architei^t to put, 
into their sinctuarv. 

We dissent totally, then, from the idea 
of unlimited expense and embellishment 

1 Di.4« our^ bffore tbe Paflcoral AtfoclttUoQ of SAms.. 
1844, p. .32. 

2 Compare Mr. Raskin's advlc« to ftrohitecfet, fa»- 
sim^ toacbiog Uw um of ** great blodu and niMnf of 
plain iton«." 



1899.] 



American Denondnatumal StatkUet. 



386 



ID the house of God. Mr. Dexter says, in 
the April number of the Conqrkga- 
tionalQuarterly, p. 212, **VVegiveno 
advice to those who are able to build, and 
pay for, magnificent houses. The richer 
the house the better, if in good taste, and 
paid for.** We instinctively set a strong 
interrogation mark against this proposi- 
tion. Unqualifiedly, absolutely, *' better 
as it is richer ?** It may be too rich as a 
building for its purposes as a Church ? 
And the principles we have maintained 
point to this standard, or rule, for houses of 
worship : Let ornament and cost corres- 
pond with the average of these in the homes 
o/ consistent Chrusiians — the average, we 
mean, as between the poorest and the 
richest, beanng in mind what consistency 
is, and what has been advanced touching 
cost and ornament and Christian hornet. 
This is only approximate after all. Such 
an average may be too high or too low. 
To '^ do as other men do in a Christian 
country," is not, by the concessions of 
Deism itself, altogether safe.^ Extrava- 

» Wwtmliuiter Reytew, July 1869. pp. d4 and 85. 
" JowvU and the Brood Charch." 



gance or meanness, pride or parsimony, 
may affect even Christian practice. And 
among consistent Christians the average 
will be higher or.lower, within limits, as 
their means may be. Therefore in a set- 
tlement of log houses, the '* Doric " Log 
Temple, recommended in the Home Mis- 
sionary for Dec. 1843, will hold the same 
relative place that Plymouth Church does 
in Brooklyn. It is to be noted also that 
our fathers put more embellishment on 
their civic edifices than they did on their 
churches — more also on some of their 
dwellings. Compare Boston State House, 
and Hancock House, with Brattle Street 
Church. The Church should strike the 
average, not of public secular buihlings, 
but of Christian homes. This will secure 
the best impression and attraction. And 
if a modest, gradual, consistent improve- 
ment takes place in these, the sacred 
edifice which they surround may also be 
modestly improved anil enriched, pari 
passu^ from year to year, and may proper- 
ly have such a style of construction and 
appointments as will allow this to be done. 



AMERICAN DENOMINATIONAL STATISTICS. 



COMPILED BY REV. A. H. QUINT. 



The Statistics of the Reformed Dutch 
Church, just issued, compare with those 
for 1858 as follows: 

1858. 1859. 

Number of churches, 393 410 

" ministers, 389 409 

*' students in theology, 42 51 

** members received on 

confession, 4,099 5,lft5 

Members rec'd on certificate, 1,788 1,744 

ToUl of communicants, 46,197 50,304 

Adults baptized, Sil 978 

Infants " 3,472 3,844 

Catechumens, 14,959 14,431 

Number in Sunday-Schools, 23,269 40,905 

CoDtributions to benev., $99,199 $125,268 



** In some respects," says the Christian 
InteUiffencerf ^^ this exhibit is gratifying. 



The increase in communicants, in Theo- 
logical students, in Sunday scholars, and 
in contributions, is decided. Infant bap- 
ti.«m is evidently not neglected, as it is 
of^en said to be. But our growth in 
churches is small— only seventeen in the 
year. But now that our candidates are 
increasing, and the Domestic Board are 
rid of the horrid incubus of a chronic 
debt, we may reasonably look for a larger 
and rapid expansion in this respect" 

In our July number we gave the Sum- 
mary of the various Baptist denomina- 
tions, as appearing in the Baptist Almanac 
for 1859. From that of 1860, we take the 
following : 



BBGUIAR BAPTISTS. 



[OoK 






AUbtiaa, '. I '. '. r~i '. T 

Arkaniias, 

California 

Connecticut, 

Delaware, 

DUtrict of Columbia 

Florida 

niinoin, 

Indian Tcmtor]r, 

Kentucky 

Louisiana 

Uarjland 

&Ia^chuaettB| 

Michigan, 

Minnesota, 

Hiasissippi, 

Missouri 

Nebranka, 

New Hampshire, 

New Jersey, 

New York, 

North Carolina, 

Ohio, 

Oregon 

Pennsylvania, 

Rhode Inland, 

South Carolina 

Tennessee, 

Vennont, 

Virginia 

Wisconsin 

German and Dutch Ch'a in the V. S., 
•Swedish Churches in the U. States, 
•Welsh Churches in ihc U. States, 

Total in the United States, . . . 



Is 
%- 



Noi 






Total in North Ami 



12.18G |7,600 il.OlO 



12,730 7,<J6S 



,l<i:i 103, 



3,163 

400 

1,395 



10,S02 
4,316 

3,9U8 



OTHKR DENOMINATIONS THAT PRACTICE IMMERSION. 

Anti-Mission Baptists in the r. S., ' "" 

Free Will Baplist*. . . 

Six Principle BaptistH, , 

Seventh-Day Baptista, . 

Church of God (WinnebrennarianE,)! .... 

Disciples, (estimated) 

Tunkera 

Mennonites, 

Total Baptuts, . . . 



lfl.5 


1.720 


1 s-i-> 




1,500 


68.000 


132 


1,206 


06.; 


168 


6,310 


66.026 












3,000 


4 
) .... 


276 
2,000 


1.32 
2,000 


10 




6.577 
13,800 
350,000 


j :::: 




2J0 


::::: 


'.'.'.'.".'. 


8,200 
36,280 


lass 


18,465 


12,426 


t,28I 


111,U7 


1,«&4,»4 



1869.] 



Ameriean Denmtmational /SXaUttiet. 



887 



The following enumeration of Metho- 
DI8TB, throughout the world, is copied 
from The WesUynn^ (Syracuse, N. Y.,) 
June 8, and we doubt not is as reliable as 
it is satL^factory by its completeness : 

*' For some months past, we have been 
collecting facts to compile a table of the 
different Methodist bodies in the world, 
fuller and more particular in many re- 
spects than any we have as yet seen. 
But we have delayed this work until 
now, in part, to obtain information, and 
in part for want of time to arrange the 
facts to be embodied. So far as Euro- 
pean Methodism is concerned, we have 
copied largely from the Mkthodist Nfw 
Connexion Magazine for February 
last, where may be found ihe bvst collec- 
tion of fact<i bearing upon this subject we 
have ever seen. Several tables have 
been made out in this country, giving the 



Besides the great parent bodies in Eng- 
land and America, there are, in both 
countries, several branch denominations, 
which now present no inconsiderable 
figure in the statistics of MethodisnL 

The Methodist New Connexion 

has : — 

Members, (including Canadian in- 
crease), 26,002 
MintHters, 177 
Local Preachem, 1,066 

Total, 27,244 

The Primitive Methodists have — 



amount of Church property, number of Local Preachers, 



Members, 
Circuit Preachers, 
Local Preachers, 

Total, 

The United Methodist 
Churches have : — 

Members, 
Circuit Preachers, 



Sabbath Schools, &c. All these we omit, 
confining; ourselves to the number of 
Church members and ministers, &c. 

Methodist E. Church, members, 956,555 
Traveling Preachers, 6,502 

Local Preachers, 7.530 

Total. 970,587 

Southern M. E. Church, members,* 700,000 
Traveling Preachers, 2,571 

Local do., t4,984 



116,216 

609 

10,533 

127,358 

Free 



43,071 

139 

1,739 

44,949 



Total. 

The Wesleyan Reformers, who 
still remain Independent Methodists : — 



Number not published, but probably 

not less than 
Number of Preachers not known. 



12,000 



Total, 707,555 

The parent body of Wesleyan Meth- 
odists, under the care of the British 
AND Colonial Conferences, accord- 
ing to the minutes of 1858, are as follows : 



BiitLE Christians, who are Metho- 
dist in doctrines and ordinances, with a 
liberal system of government : — 



Members, 
Preachers, 
Local Preachers. 



British Conference members, 


277,091 


Ireland, " 


19,406 


Foreign Stations, ** 


64,848 


French MeihodiiJts, •' 


1,446 


Australian, ** ** 


24,461 


Canadian, '* " 


40,837 


British American Eastern Conference 


t 


members. 


13,511 




441,600 


Probationers, 


40,846 


Total, 


482,446 


Ministers, (inclndinj? supernumera- 




ries). 


2,450 


Number of Local Preachers not given. 




but probably not less than 


15,900 



• Or ezaetl/ 699,176, as on p. 800, mUt. 
t In tabto on p. 800, 6,016. 



19,068 

161 

1,354 

Total, 20,583 

Church Methodists in Ireland — a 
denomination which admits lay delega- 
tion, but forbids its ministers to adminis- 
ter the ordinances of Baptism and the 
Lord's Supper : — 

Members, 9,158 

Preachers, 78 

Local Preachers, (number not given. ) 

Total, 9,236 

In addition to the foregoing, there are 
several branches of the Methodist family 
in America, which are distinguished from 
the parent body by the adoption of a lib- 
eral system of Church polity. 



888 



Amencan Demmmathnal Statidm. 



[Oor. 



Methodist Protestants of this 
country : — 



Members North and South, 
Traveling Preachers, 



80,000 
916 



Total, 80,916 

ZioN M. £. Church and the Bethel 
M. £. Church, (colored). 



Members, 

Traveling Preachers, 
Local Preachers, 



26,746 
193 
444 



Toul, 27,383 

Canadian M. £. Church : — 



Members, 
Traveling Preachers, 



13,3.52 
167 



Total, 13,509 

Wesletan Methodist Connexion 
of America ; — 



Members, 

Traveling Preachers, 
Unstationed Preachers, 



21,000 
340 
226 



Total, 21.566 

Besides the above, we are quite sure, 
but will not be ponUive^ that there is one 
more organization among our colored 
brethren than has been named above, 
and some Independent or Congregational 
Methodists which we can only speak of 
conjecturally. We set them down, how- 
ever, in membership. 



Members, 
Preachers, 



10,000 
200 



Total, 10,200 

The existence and vigorous growth of 
the different bran(*hes of the Methodist 
Family, affbnl ample material for reflec- 
tion and speculation. According to the 
foregoing table, there are, in European 
bodies, an aggregate of membership, iii- 
cludinc^ tlie ministry, of not less than 
740,266. And in the bodies that belong 
to this country, includin;; the M. E. 
Church in Canada, 1,831,715. Uniiing 
the two, and we have the round number 
of 2.571,981. This is a result of momen- 
tous significance ; and shows what may be 
done, by the simple enforcement of the 
truth upon the heart and life ; marked 
features in the general history of Meth- 
odiim, aa a religious agency." 



The Bf tnutes of the proceedingi of the 
main Presbyterian boilies, at their les- 
sions of last May, have been iasued. Their 
Statistics are as follows : — 

Old School. 
During the year ending May, 1859, 
nine new Presbyteries have been oi^gaa- 
ized, viz: Lewea, Potomac, Boanoke, 
Omaha, Western Reserve, Hilbboro', 
Bloomingtoii, Saline, and the Presbytery 
of Siam, in the Foreign MissioD field ; the 
Presbytery of Puget Sound, in Or^OQ, 
was also recognized and taken under the 
care of the Assembly. 

Synods in connection with the 0«n- 

eral Assembly. 8S 
Presbyteries, 106 
Licentiates, 297 
Candidates for the Ministry, 493 
Ministers, 2,577 
Churches, 3,487 
Licensures, 132 
Ordinations, 91 
Installations, 189 
Pastoral Relations diMolvtd, 184 
Churches organized, 118 
MiniHters received from other de- 
nominations, 42 
Ministers dismissed tootherdenom- 

inations, 6 
Churches received from other de- 
nominations, 23 
Churches dismissed to other de- 
nominations, 2 
Ministers deceased, 31 
Churches dissolved, 15 
Members added on examination, 23,94*5 
Members added on certificate, 10,879 
Total number of communicantii re- 
ported, 279,630 
Adults baptisced. 6,672 
Infants baptized, 16,194 
Amount contributed for home pur- 
poses, ^2,070,479 
Amount contributed for Boards 

and Church Extension, $542,695 
Amount contributed for Miscella- 
neous purposes, 3^^973 
Whole am't contributed in 1859, $2,835,147 

The following ministers have died du- 
ring the year : 



Names. 

Elara Smallcy, D.D.. 
E. D. Maltbie, 
Zechariah Greene, 
Samuel E. Cornish, 
Jacob J. Janeway, D.D., 
James Carnahan, 
Elkaiinh D. Mackey, 
Edward W. Condict, 
James Gilbraith, 
William Wylie, D.D., 
Job Broughton, 
T. B. Wilson, 
John M. Crabb, 



Prf»bjfteriet. 

Trov. 

Mohawk. 

Lonf^ Island. 

Nassau. 

New Brunswick. 



•> 



Lewea. 



i« 



New Lisbon. 

Zanesville. 

Chilicothe. 

MiamL 

Manmce. 



1859.] (hngregatmal Theological Seminaries in England. 389 



JVome*. 
Benjamin F. Spilman, 
John Marshall, • 
S. N. Evans, 
J. B. Hadden, 
James A. Sterratt, 
Hiram P. Goodrich, D.D., 
William £. Locke, 
S. Hamner Davis, 
Joseph E. Curtis, 
John H. Pickard, 
8. Y. Wylv, 
John W. Ogden, 
Oliver B. Hays, 
Fierpont £. Bishop, 
Reuben Post, D.D., 
L. A. Simonton, 
H. Mandeville, D.D., 
A. M. Morgan, 

Total, 31 



Fmhptriu. 
Saline. 
Schuyler. 
Chicago. 
Dubuque. 
St. Paul. 
St. Louis* 
Palmyra. 
East Hanover. 

Orange. 

Holston. 

Nashville. 
<< 

Harmony. 
Charleston. 
Hopewell. 
South Alabama. 
Ouachita. 



New School. 

Synods in connection with the Gen- 
eral Assembly, 23 
Presbyteries, 108 
Licentiates, 134 
Candidates for the Ministry, 370 
Ministers, 1,545 
Churches, 1,542 
Ministers deceased, 14 
Members added on examination, 10^705 
Members added on certificate, 4,832 
Total number of communicants re->> 

K)rted, 137,990 

s baptized. 3,550 

Infants baptized, 4,308 

Am't contributed for Gen. Ass'y, $5,104 15 

Domestic Missions, 91,402 88 

Foreign " 67,796 42 

Education, 65,707 69 

Publication, 41,667 21 
Total, (exceptfor Home purposes), 271,678 34 

These Statistics include the two seceded 
Synods of Missouri and Virginia, so far as 
to reckon 8 Presbyteries, 76 ministers, 8 
licentiates, 11 candidates, 107 churches, 
and 4,539 communicants. 

The following ministers have died 
during the year : 

Names. PrtibyUru$. 

Leonard Johnson, Chenango. 

Thomas S. Brittan, Brooklyn. 

Thomas P. Hunt, Phila., 4th. 



«« 

14 
<l 
l« 



14 
«l 
44 



James H. Rice, 
Lawrence Streit, 
Alexander B. Corning, 
Truman Coe, 
John Thompson, 
Amos P. Brown, 
Morrison Huggins, 
Alexander Montgomery, 
John D. Strong, 
Adams W. Piatt, 
George M. Crawford, 



Erie. 

Meadville. 

Washtenaw. 

Grand River. 

Crawfordsvilla. 

Schuyler. 

Belvidere>. 



<( 



Columbus. 
Iowa City. 
Lexington. 



Missionary Efforts. 

The report of a Conmiittee in the last 
session of the Presbyterian (N. S.) (Gen- 
eral Assembly, presents some very inter- 
esting facts regarding the missionary 
efforts of various denominations. We 
copy the following tables, without exam- 
ining the data from which the able com- 
mittee drew their conclusions. 

" In enumerating missionaries, we give 
only those who have been ordained, not 
including the female assistants ; and in the 
number of missionaries, and the amount 
of funds given by the Congregationalists 
and our own body, we have not included 
what is done through the American Mis- 
sionary Association. 

Members. Min. Hiss's. Cont*«. 

I. Cong, chs., 238,624 2,313 150 $200,000 

II. Pre8.(N.S.) 127,373 1,439 61 94,600 

III. " (O.S.) 259,335 2,468 71 166,782 

IV. Episcopal, 119,640 1,843 18 68,821 
V. Bap% (No.) 339,211 3,316 39 86,850 

VI. Meth. " 768,000 6,602 17 48,000 

The proportion therefore, is of 



Miss 


. Min. 


Memb^B. Cont. by 
•a. mem. 


I. Congregat's, 1 


[to] 23 L 


and] 2,300 ,81 


II. (N.S.) Pres. 1 


28 


2,600 ,73 


III. (O.S.) " 1 


34 


3,662 ,63 


IV. Baptists, (N.) 1 


86 


8,666 ,26 


V. Episcopalians,! 


102 


6,641 ,67 


VI. Meth. (No.) 1 


382 


46,176 ,06^ 



CONGREGATIONAL THEOLOGICAL SEMINARIES IN ENGLAND. 



BY BBV. HEMBT M. DEXTE&. 



Thebe are ten institutions under the 
care and patronage of the Congregational 
Dissenters of Great Britain, which are 
especially designed to raise up ministers 
of the Gospel. A brief notice of these, 
VOL. I. 50 



in the order of their foundation, is here 
proposed. 

1. Western College. 
This is at Plymouth. It was estab- 
lished by the London Congregational 



390 



Congregatioml Theotogioal Semmarm m Jkiffkmi {Ooz. 



Fund Board, in 1752, witli a view to 
counteract the Arian tendencies of the 
time. It has two Professors, viz : Kev. J. 
M. Chaiiton, M. A., Professor of Theol- 
ogy and Philosophy, and Rev. F. £. 
Anthony, M. A., Professor of Classics and 
Mathematics. The regular term of study 
is five years, though students for whom 
the full course is deemed undesirable, are 
admitted to an abridged course of three 
years. The curriculum includes theology, 
mental and moral philosophy, biblical 
criticism, hermenentics. New Testament 
exegesis, Hebrew, Chaldee, Church His- 
tory, and Homiletics; with the Classics, 
Mathematics and Natural Philosophy. 
The College is open to young men of all 
denominations, of good moral character, as 
lay students. Each candidate for the 
ministry must be recommended by his 
pastor, and the Church to which he be- 
longs, and by some other minister to 
whom he is known ; and must pass exami- 
nation upon his religious principles and 
purposes, as also respecting his mental 
attainments. This being satisfactory, he 
is admitted to three mouths probation, 
which resulting favorably, he is fully ad- 
mitted. The fee for each class is £3 3s., 
(SI 5. 75) one half of which is deducted 
from the term bills of the sons of minis- 
ters. The receipts of the College for the 
last year were £886, 158. 9d. Expendi- 
tures, £1,210, 8s. 6d. The number of 
students, during the current year, is seven- 
teen. 

2. ROTHEBHAM INDEPENDENT COLLEOE. 

This is at Rothcrham, West Riding, 
Yorkshire, and was established in 1795, 
on its present plan, under the celebrated 
Dr. Edward Williams ; tliou«;h it had ex- 
isted from 1 75G, in a modified form. The 
course includes all the subjects recjuircd 
to qualify students for literary degrees in 
the University of London. Every stu- 
dent is required to be a member of some 
Independent Church. 

The ordinary period of study is four 
years, though it may be extended, in 
special cases, to six ; which is the limit. 



There are two Profeason, iris : Ber. F. J. 
Falding, D.D., Profeaaor of Theology and 
Hebrew, and Rev. C. C. Tyte, Ptrofeaor 
of Classics and Mathematics. Income for 
the current year, £957, la. 7d. Ezpen* 
diture, £1,083, 78. 2d. Nomber of rto- 
dents, fourteen. 

3. Bbecon Indbfbndent Collbos. 

This is at Brecon, or Brecknock, S. 
Wales, and was founded in 1760, and u 
intended to educate young men for the 
Congregational ministry. The candidates 
must be single men, between the ages of 
18 and 24, whose piety is attested by their 
pastor and the Church to which they 
belong, and at least two neighboring min- 
isters ; and must be able to read Virgil 
and New Testament Greek, with propor* 
tionate knowledge of other branches. 

The course of study includes the Latan 
and Greek Classics, Hebrew and French; 
Ancient and Modern History ; HomileticSi 
Biblical criticism. Mathematics, Natural 
and Mental Philosophy, Church History 
and Divinity. 

The Professors are Rev. J. Morris, Pro- 
fessor of Theology, and llev. W. Roberts, 
Professor of Classics, &c. Income last 
year, £764, IDs. lOd; Expenditure, £777, 
17s. 4d. Number of students, twenty- 
four. 

4. GuESHTNT College. 

This is at Cheshunt, Herts, (14 m., N. 
London,) whither, in 1792, it was removed 
from Talgarth, in Wales, where it had 
been established by Lady Huntingdon, in 
1768; on the 24th August of which year 
it was publicly opened by George White- 
field. The principles of this College are 
Calvinistic, being set forth in fifteen arti- 
cles, to which tutors and students are 
retjuired to give assent *, though young 
men are left entirely free as to their tie- 
nominational choice. Candidates must be 
unmarried, not over 28 years of age, 
whose [)iety is well attested by their pas- 
tors, and churches. There are three 
months of probation, and four years in the 
term of studv. The curriculum includes 
Hebrew and Syriac, New Teitament 



1859.] Omigregaiioml Theahgiecd SeminarieB m England. 391 



Greek, Biblical Literature. Church His- 
tory, the Fathers and Theology, in addi- 
tion to the ordinary studies of a college. 

The Professors are Rev. R. Alliott, 
L.L.D., Profe«or of Theology, and W. 
B. Todhanter, Esq., M. A., Professor of 
Classics and Mathematics. Number of 
students, twenty-two. 

Income for last year, £1,899, I63. 7d. ; 
Expenditure, £1,756, 13s. 2d. This Col- 
lege has several scholarships, and has 
absorbed the late Newport Pagnel College. 

6. AlBDALE COLLBOE. 

This is at UnderclitTe, near Bradford, 
West Riding, Yorkshire, where it was 
founded in 1784. Candidates must be 
recommended by their pastors and church- 
es, and must pass examination in the 1st 
books of the ^neid, of the Anabasis, and 
of Euclid. Probation is one year, the 
whde term of study being five. The cur- 
riculum includes Theology, Biblical criti- 
cism, Homiletics, History, Classics, Logic 
and Mathematics; with Hebrew, Chaldee 
and Syriac. 

There are three Professors, viz : Rev. 
D. Fraser, L.L.D., Professor of Theology ; 
Rev. R. G. Hartley, M. A., Professor of 
Classics, and Rev. H. B. Creak, M. A., 
Professor of Mathematics. Number of 
students the current year, fifteen. 

6. Hackxbt Theological Seminary. 

Hackney is a suburb of London, 3m. N. 
N. E. of St. Paul's. This institution was 
founded . by Rev. John Eyre and Charles 
Townsend, in 1 79G. The curriculum re- 
sembles those before detailed. The term 
of study is four years. 

There are three Professors, viz. : Rev. 
John Watson, Professor of Theology ; 
Rev. S. Ransom, Professor of Classics and 
Hebrew, and W. Watson, Es(i., Professor 
of Natural Philosophy. 

The number of students is seven. Ex- 
penditure, £958, 128. 3d. 

7. Lancashire Independent College. 
This is at Manchester. It was estab- 
lished in 1806 at Manchester by the late 
Rev. W. Roby ; removed to Blackburn in 
1816, and restored to Manchester in 1842. 



Terms of admission are similar to thote al- 
ready detailed. The curriculum extends 
to five years, and embraces Theology, 
Biblical Literature, Greek and Latin 
Classics, Philosophy, Mathematics and 
Logic. 

There are three Professors, viz. : Pro- 
fessor Rogers, in Theology ; Professor 
Newth, in Mathematics and Logic, and 
Professor Hall in Classics, &c. The 
Chair of Biblical Literature is vacant 
The number of students is thirty. Sev- 
eral scholarships worth yearly from $125 
to Si 70, are open to the students, and 
indigent students are aided from the funds 
of the institution. 

8. Theological Hall of Cong. Churches 
OF Scotland. 

This Theological Academy was estab- 
lished at Edinburgh, in 1811, for the ed- 
ucation of ministers for the Congregational 
churches of Scotland. The students, for 
the most part, are instructed in general 
studies at the University of Edinburgh. 
The curriculum of the Theological Hall 
is restricted to Theology, Philology, Her- 
meneutics, Biblical Criticism, Homiletics, 
Church History and Composition of Ser- 
mons. The regular course consists of 
four consecutive terms of eight months 
each. When elementary education is 
needed, a fif^h year may be added, and for 
students who have been through the 
University, three years are considered 
sufficient. 

There are two Professors, viz. : Rev.W. 
L. Alexander, \y.\y.^ Professor of Theology; 
and Rev. A. T. Gowan, M. A., Professor 
of Church History and Sacred Litera- 
ture. Income, £928, 6.<t. ; expenditure, 
£603, 8s. 4d. Number of regular stu- 
dents, nine. 

9. Spring Hill College. 

This was founded, at Birmingham, in 
1838. Its receipts last year were £2,099, 
168. 7d.; expenditure, £2,052, 19s. 5d. 

The plan of education comprises two 
courses ; one properly Theological, occu- 
pying four sessions ; the other includes 
Hebrew, Aramean, Greek and Latin, 



392 Congregatumal TheologieiU Seminaries in Engbxnd. [Ooil 



Engllah Literatare, Mathematics, Natural 
Philosophy, &c. &c. Examination for the 
first course is in the Hebrew of Grenesis, 
or the Psahns, and the subjects included 
in the B. A. Examination of the Uni- 
versity of London ; except Chemistry, 
Physiology, Botany and Modem Lan- 
guages. Candidates for the second course 
are examined in the 6th book of the 
^neid, the 1st books of the Anabasis, and 
of Euclid, with Arithmetic and Algebra 
as far as fractions. 

Every candidate must declare, in wri- 
ting, that he is a Dissenter, and that he 
believes in the Unity of Grod, the Divinity 
of Christ, the Atonement, the Divinity 
and Personality of the Holy Spirit, the 
necessity of regeneration, the plenary in- 
spiration of the Scriptures, and the Di- 
vine authority of Infant Baptism. 

There are two Professors, viz. : Rev. 
T. R. Barker, and Rev. H. (xoward, M. 
A., L.L. B. There are fifteen divinity 
students. Provision is made for the aid 
of indigent students. 

10. New CoLLEaE, London. 

This institution, at St. John's Wood, 
was founded in 1850, by the junction of 
Coward, Honierton and Highbury Col- 
leges. Its income last year was £4,785, 
lis. 2d.; expenditure, £4,931, 5s. 5d. 

Tlie term of study is five years; a lit- 
erary course of two years, and a theolog- 
ical course of three years. Students who 
have taken the degree of B. A., or are 
otherwise competent, dispense with the 
first. 

Ever}' candidate is required to be a 
member of some Congregational Church, 
and to have eom])leted his sixteenth year. 

Indigent students are aided, to the 
amount of from >^100 to S200 per year, 
according to the state of their funds and 
the College's. There are also three Pye 
Smith scholarships, and one MUls^ and one 
Hennj Foster Burfh^r scholarship, of the 
value of "SI 50 each, tenable for three 
years, and open to competition. There is 
also one John Yockney scholarship, of the 
value of SlOO per annum. 



There are six Profeasors, Tix: Rer. 
Robert Halley, D.D^ Profeasor of Theol- 
ogy and Homiletics ; Rev. John H. Good- 
win, Professor of Theology and Greek 
Testament ; William Smith, Esq., L.LJ)., 
Professor of Classics ; Rev. S. Newth, M. 
A., Professor of Mathematics and His- 
tory ; Rev. Maurice Nenner, Professor of 
Hebrew and German, and Dr. Lankester, 
F. R. S., Professor of Natural Science. 

The number of students for the minis- 
try is fifty-three. 

The following summary condenses the 
facts above given : — 

Tttmof 

Name. Date. Studff. Pr^*. ShtdemU. 

Western, 1752 6y. 2 17 

Rothcrham, 1756 4 2 14 

Brecon, 1760 4 2 24 

Chcshunt, 1768 4 2 22 

Airdale, 1784 5 3 15 

Hackney, 1796 4 3 7 

Lancashire, 1806 5 4 30 

Theol'l Hall, 1811 4 2 9 

Spring Hill, 1838 4 2 15 

New College, 1850 3 6 53 

Sems., 10. Av. term, about 47. 2S 206 

By a comparison of this table with that 
on p. 185 (April No.) of this Quarterly, it 
will be seen that in our six Congregational 
Theological Seminaries in this country, we 
have a total of 265 students ; or an aver- 
age of 44.1 students in each institution 
against an average of only 20.6 in each 
of these of our denomination in England. 
We graduate this year, from our six Sem- 
inaries, sixty-six persons — an average of 
eleven each; while, if we estimate the 
average course of the English institutions 
at four years, and suppose the students to 
be evenly distributed through the classes, 
tbey will graduate this year, from their 
ten Seminaries, ffty-one persons — an 
average of but little more than Jive each. 

Doubtless much time, strength and 
money are wasted, both there and here, 
in the undue multiplication of small and 
feeble institutions; which by no means 
make up in territorial convenience for the 
losses which they necessitate in other 
directions. The lesson has a hint for the 
future ; both in the father land and here. 



1859.] 



A Lesson from the Past: Catechismg. 



393 



A LESSON FROM THE PAST: 
CATECHISING. 

BY BET. JOSEPH 8. CULEK, D.D. 



** Few pastors of mankind ever took 
such pains at catechising," says Cotton 
Mather, " as have been taken by our New 
English divines ; " and in confirmation of 
the statement he proceeds to name ** the 
most judicious and elaborate catechisms 
published, — a lesser and a larger by Mr. 
Norton, a lesser and a larger by Mr. Ma- 
ther, several by Mr. Cotton, one by Mr. 
Davenport, one by Mr. Stone, one by Mr. 
Norris, one by Mr. Noyes, one by Mr. 
Fisk, several by Mr. Eliot, one by Mr. 
Seaborn Cotton, a large one by Mr. 
Fitch." (Magnalia, Vol. II., Book V., § 
1.) But that which, at an early day, 
became known as " the catechism" was 
The Westminster Assembly's. Probably 
no human production in the form of a 
book ever had a greater run in New Eng- 
land. It is certain that none was e);er 
half so thoroughly read and committed to 
memory by the mass of the people. And 
with almost equal assurance it can be 
affirmed that no other has exerted such a 
controlling influence over their character, 
either in a religious, moral, or intellectual 
point of view. How could it have been 
otherwise ? From the first development 
of the mental faculties, till their decay — 
from the cradle to the grave — the Assem- 
bly's Shorter Catechism, was milk for 
babes, meat for strong men, and medi- 
cine for the infirm aged. 

Let us try, by such helps as are at 
hand, to reproduce a life-scene or two, 
once as familiar as household faces, but 
now, and for the last half century, seldom 
witnessed. That row of boys and girls 
on the opposite sides of the large open 
fire-place, beginning with a man-grown 
lad of nineteen years, and tapering away 
in a gradual diminuendo till it terminates 
on a girl of five or six, is a family class. 



called out just before a Sabbath sun-set, 
to recite the Catechism to their parents. 
A similar group may be seen about the 
same hour in every other house within 
sight, occupied in nearly the same way. 
Commencing with " the chief end of 
man," the questions are taken up in 
course, and answered by the children in 
order, till each, coming one after another 
to a pause, is permitted to leave the line 
and sit down. Very likely no one in the 
group is yet able to go through the entire 
one hundred and seven questions. But 
each Sabbath adds to the stock of their 
answers till at length the whole is master- 
ed by the youngest child, as it was by the 
father and mother, who went through a 
similar drill when they were children. 

This was a regular weekly exercise in 
every respectable family throughout New 
England for nearly a hundred years ; and 
it prevailed among the more religious 
families for at least three-quarters of a 
century longer. There are aged persons 
still living who were thus trained, and 
who commenced the training of their 
young families in the same way. 

Coeval with this custom was another of 
the same general character, in which the 
minister took the lead. Once a week in 
some towns, and once a month in others, 
those who lived in sight of the meeting- 
house mij^ht have seen a conffregation of 
children and youth gathering there, of a 
Saturday afternoon, from all parts of the 
parish ; and exactly at two o'clock the 
entrance of the pastor was the signal for 
all in the house to rise and keep their 
standing posture till he had walked up 
the broad aisle and taken his place in 
the deacon's seat, — from whence be cate- 
chised the timid but delighted boys and 
girls of his flock, in a way not essentially 



y 



894 



A Letaonfrom ike Ptuit GateekUk^. 



[Ooi. 



difTercnt from what they werp accustomed 
to at home, except that he followed up 
their answers with such practical applica- 
tion, or critical explanation, as he deemed 
pertinent to the subject. These were 
great occasions, in the view of all who 
participated in them, and they were to a 
great extent, the sources of that com- 
manding influence which the minister 
got over the rising generation. This Sat- 
urday aflemoon catechising of all the 
children in one class at the meeting- 
house, fell by degrees into a Saturday 
forenoon exercise in the public schools, 
which the pastor visited in rotation for 
that purpose. In some churches, as in 
the Old First Church at Plymouth, it 
was customary to appoint some one or 
more of the brethren to assist the pastor 
in this particular department of his labor. 

Another way of using the catechism, 
was to make it the basis of a course of 
lectures — written or extemporary — for the 
special benefit of those who, in our day, 
arc intended to be reached by ** Lectures 
to Young Men," i. e., anybody of either 
sex between childhood and middle age. 
Usually this exercise came on Thursday 
afternoon, alternating with the ** Thurs- 
day Lecture," where that was established ; 
and so thoroughly did they shred the 
topics as they came under discus-sion, that 
the course, from beginning to end, some- 
timi»s lasted several year:*. 

Among the manuscript collections of 
the Congregational Library Association, 
the fragments of several sueh courses of 
lectures are found. The most complete 
is one from Rov. Ebencz«ir Parkman, 
of Westboro*, delivered first in 1741, 
and repeated, with alterations, several 
times during his long ministry. Room for 
an entire lecture cannot well be afforded 
in this place. The following skeleton of 
the first one in the series will illustrate 
the frcnoral method of the whole. The 
introduction, which is short, shall be given 
in full. 

" iin Explanation of the Assembly's 
Catechism, No. 1. 



** When Solomon, the wisest of irise 
men, undertook to ^ve advice, his ooim- 
sel was this : — Gtt wisdom^ and with aU 
thy getting^ get understanding. Of all wis- 
dom and understanding, divine is the most 
excellent The knowledge of God, and 
Christ, and divine things, this is life eter- 
nal. One of the most useful methods of 
obtaining knowledge is, (as experience 
has shown,) this of catechising. Timothy 
had received such a form of sound warde 
from Paul; and he is bid to hold it fast in 
faith and love, which is in Christ Jesos ; 
q. d. * adhere to and esteem what I have 
given you, with that steadfastness and 
affectionate regard which becomes a Chris- 
tian.' 2. Tim. i : 13. Theophilus also 
seems to have been catechised into the 
knowledge which he had obtained of 
Christianity ; for this is the word which 
in our t7*anslation is rendered * instructed^ 
in Luke i : 4. 

" Of all the Catechisms I have been 
acquainted with, I cannot prefer any to 
this of the Assembly of Divines, which sat 
at Westminster, at the appointment of the 
Parliament, next month 08 years since. 
This Assembly first met July, 1645. The 
Catechism was drawn up by Dr. Tuck- 
ney, and Dr. Arrowsmith, and Mr. Math. 
Neweomen. 

" It begins with man^s chief end — the 
glorifying God and enjoying him forever ; 
and the great rule for us in these — the 
Holy Scriptures, which teach us the things 
we are to believe, and the things we are to 
do ; for all our concern may be wrapped 
up in these two grand articles. Accord- 
injjlv the Catechism is divided into these 
TWO main and principal parte ; the first 
showing the things which we are to helier^ 
concerning God, and the other, what duty 
God requires of us. 

" That vou mav have some clear under- 
standing of the whole, we will, bv divine 
help, first consider the two introtluctory 
articles, then proceed to open and ex- 
plain the two general parts of this body of 
Christian divinity. Of the introductory 
articles we are to consider : 



1869.] 



A Lemmfrom tie Peat : Chieekaxng. 



395 



" FIRST. What is the chief end 
OF MAN ? The answer is tun-fold ; to 
glorify God, and enjoy him forever. 

** L Man's chief end is to glorify God, 
There are two things incumbent on me 
here. To show first what it is ; and sec- 
ondly, how this is man's chief end. 

"L What is U to glorify God? To be 
the clearer, mind, 

** 1. (Negatively,) this does not intend 
that we can bring any additional glory to 
the essence of God ; for his essential glory 
is incapable of it Rom. ii: 35. Fs. xvi : 2. 

** 2. (Positively,) we can glorify God 
by noanifesting and declaring forth his 
glory. This we may in two ways — pas- 
sively and actively. 

** (1.) Passively, This we do in com- 
mon with our creations. Fs. xix : 1. 

^ (2.) Actively. This is to be done by 
all our powers and faculties, in all our 
motions and actions, internal and exter- 
nal ; and according to our several ability. 

[1.] By all our powers, inward and 
outward, (a) By entertaining suitable 
apprehensions of the glorious Lord, (h) 
By having corresponding and proportion- 
able affections and tempers. Acknow- 
ledging, fearing, loving, adoring, submit- 
ting, trusting, hoping in him. (c) By our 
words — in worship — in conversation, (d) 
By our actions, 

** [2.] This should be according to our 
several ability — in proportion to our tal- 
ents. Matt XXV : 15. 

" II. This is man*s chief end. For, 

**• 1. God made all things for his glory. 
Prov. xvi : 4. Rom. iv : 11. 

** 2. Man especially ; and hath won- 
derfully capacitated him. 

** 3. Grod expressly requires this. 1 
Cor. x: 31. 1 Feter, iv : 11. 

" 4. Hath given his Word and Spirit to 
guide and direct. 

** 5. No creature can be his own end- 
not even self, how much soever admired 
and adored. 

** 6. Christ hath bought us for this end. 
1 Cor. ix: 19, 20. 

" 7. God hath encouraged us with prom- 



ises, and severely threatens eternal pun- 
ishment to the ungodly. 

^ Use. — 1. Examination. Let us all 
carefully try ourselves. 

" 2. Reproof. How exceedingly to 
blame are all such as do not glorify God^ 
but live to themselves. 

** 3. Exhortation, Let me call upon you 
to discharge this principal duty. (1) 
You are now in your prime, and are not 
so engaged as you will be. (2) God will 
accept of you the rather now. He says, 
* I love them that love me, and they that 
seek me early shall find me.' (3) Great ad- 
vantages and comforts follow early piety." 

It will be seen that the foregoing covers 
only one half the answer to the first ques- 
tion. The other half occupies the whole 
of the second lecture, which is considera- 
bly longer and has more heads than this. 

It still remains to speak of the use 
which the fathers of New England made 
of the Catechism, as a text-hook of theol- 
ogy. Neither the Westminster Confes- 
sion, out of which the Catechism was fash- 
ioned, nor the Savoy Confession, which 
the English Independents adopted as a 
slight modification of the Westminster, 
nor the New England Confession of 1680, 
which was, in some sense, a compound of 
both, has had the honor of becoming the 
spinal column of such '•^ A complete Body 
of Divinity " as Rev. Samuel Willard left 
behind him in ** Two Hundred and Fifly 
Expository Lectures on the Assembly's 
Shorter Catechism ; wherein the Doc- 
trines of the Christian Religion are un- 
folded, their Truth confirmed, their Ex- 
cellence displayed, their Usefulness im- 
proved ; contrary Errors and Vices re- 
futed and exposed, Objections answered. 
Controversies settled, Cases of Conscience 
resolved ; and a great light thereby re- 
flected on the present age." This, in 
substance, is the title-page of a folio vol- 
ume of 914 pages, printed at Boston in 
1726 — purporting to be, as it really was, 
" the largest work ever printed here, and 
the first of Divinity in a folio volume." 

We learn from the preface, written by 



396 



A Lesson from the Pari : Ccteehiaing. 



[OOK 



Revs. Joseph Sewall and Thomas Prince, 
successors to Mr. WiUard in the pastox^ 
ship of the Old South Church, (for the 
boolc was printed eighteen years after the 
author's death,) that the foundation of 
this huge production was a mere ** Exhi- 
bition of the Assembly's Shorter Cate- 
chism among the children of his people." 
Having thus " methodized the subject, 
and laid out the several heads " in simple 
talks to the children, ** on the Slst Jan- 
uary, 1688, he entered on these more 
elaborate Discourses upon them"— one 
lecture a month, on Tuesday aflemoon — 
which he kept up for nine years, with 
large audiences, including *^ many of the 
most knowing and judicious persons both 
from town and college." ** An exact list 
of subscribers," printed at the end of the 
preface, shows six hundred and forty-five 
copies engaged before it was fairly through 
the press. As books of that size and 
binding now sell, the subscription price 
would not be less than four or five dollars. 
Such was the interest once felt through- 
out New England in the Assembly's 
Shorter Catechism, and such the methods 
taken, by pastors and people, to keep its 
terse expressions of Bible truth in the 
memory and heart of all classes. And 
manifold were the good effects. It gave 
a healthy exercise to the mind. The 
mere commitment to memory of so many 
clear ideas, expressed in the most com- 
pact phrase, exerted a strengthening in- 
fluence on the whole intellectual ma- 
chinery of the young. It gave, more- 
over, to every man, woman and child the 
ready means of at least stating the points 
of accredited Orthodoxy — which cannot 
now be done by every member of an 
orthodox church. Even its most unintel- 
ligible statements — unintelligible when 
committed to the child's memory — would 
be opening up into clear vistas of thought, 
through which great scriptural truths 
were ever coming to light all the way 
along in life. It has often been objected 
to the use of this catechism, for children, 
that they cannot understand it. But if 



they are to commit nothing to memory— 
learn nothing — hear nothing said — ^whicb 
they cannot at the time understand, how 
or when are they ever to become wiser? 
It is expected — and all right syatems of 
instruction are based on the expectation 
— that they will not always be children; 
and that those mere signs of ideas, which, 
at this period, have little or no ngnifi- 
cance, will have a significance as the 
mental faculties are exercised and ex- 
panded. The custom of household cate- 
chising, which brought the head of the 
family into direct coomiunication with 
each member of it, as a spiritual teacher 
and guide, was a sure method of uphold- 
ing parental authority ; while the pastoi^s 
almost universal habit of catechising all 
the young of his parish on Saturday after- 
noons, or at other stated seasons, as has been 
intimated already, was admirably adapted 
to pave his way to that supremacy which 
he generally attained in the hearts of his 
people, if he tarried long in a place. 

If to all these advantages we add the 
religious influence of so much sound, in- 
vincible doctrine as is contained in this 
incomparable summary of scriptural truth, 
it may be questioned, whether even our 
admired system of Sabhath schools, is an 
adequate compensation for the almost en- 
tire suspense of catechetical instruction 
from pastors and parents. Or rather, it 
does not admit of a question, that, without 
disturbing the Sabbath school in one iota 
of its present form and functions, ttus 
early, long tried and heaven approved 
means of moral and religious culture, 
might be recalled and reapplied to its 
original use with the happiest cfi*ect. 
True, the churches lapsed into error and 
irreligion under just this culture ; and so 
did the Children of Israel under the 
teaching of Moses and the prophets. But 
in both cases it was through spiritless for- 
malism, and not through scriptural teach- 
ings that they fell. In both cases there 
was a departure ftom the good old way 
in which their fathers had walked and 
" found rest to their souls." 



1859.] 



Gilbert JRickmand. 



397 



GILBERT RICHMOND. 



Gilbert RicnMOND was the son of 
Nathaniel and Mary Richmond, and was 
bom at Newport, R. L, in May, 1800. 
He went to Bristol, in 1813, to learn the 
trade of a baker, having received no other 
education than that afforded by the com- 
mon schools of that period. 

In 1820, there was a revival of religion 
in the place ; and, under the ministry of 
the Rev. Joel Mann, God was pleased to 
show him the state of his heart, and the 
necessity of regeneration. 

His convictions were very deep, and his 
distress, at times, great in view of his situ- 
ation in the sight of God. The doctrine 
of God's sovereignty, as connected with 
man's free agency, was a great stumbling 
block to him at this time. His heart was 
full of sin and rebellion, and for many 
days he continued in this frame of mind. 

At length, God graciously rolled away 
the clouds which had obscured this ques- 
tion, and Mr. R. saw himself a sinner, 
justly condemned, and with no hope, 
except in a full surrender of himself to 
God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 
This question once settled, was decided 
for a life time, and no doctrine was ever 
more precious to him in afler years, than 
that God is a sovereign, infinite in wis- 
dom, goodness and power ; too wise to err, 
too good to be unkind, too powerful to fail 
in any of his designs. It was his comfort 
in hours of trial, discouragement and 
darkness. 

He went to his room one day — ^his dis- 
tress being so great that he was unable to 
attend to his business — and there resolved 
that, whatever the issue, he would cast 
himself unreservedly on the mercy of God 
in Christ — making a full surrender, and 
from that hour devote his time, his talents, 
and all that he possessed to Christ ; and 
exclaiming, ** Lord, I believe, help thou 

VOL. I. 51 



my unbelief," he asked, " Lord, what 
wilt thou have me to do ?" 

He soon afler was baptized. His pa- 
rents having been Baptists, his preference 
was indulged ; and Mr. Mann himself, by 
immersion, admitted him into the Congre- 
gational Church, now under the charge 
of Rev. Dr. Shepard. During the two 
remaining; vears of his residence in Bris- 
tol, his life of consistent, active piety, 
evinced that his surrender of all to God, 
in his chamber, had been sincere. 

The experience through which God 
led him, was of service in after life, and 
made him very efficient in revivals. He 
never sought, by palliating the guilt of a 
sinner, to make him " feel better," but 
pressed home the truth that God is a 
sovereign ; that man has broken his laws, 
is condemned, and has no hope except 
by thorough repentance, and surrender to 
God, with faith in the Lord Jesus Christ 
He also believed that the preaching of 
doctrinal truth in revivals was one of the 
best methods of promoting their efficiency. 
The change in his own heart was accom- 
panied with no sudden transition from 
deep gloom to extreme joy ; indeed, he 
never could point out the precise time of 
the change. It was like the breaking of 
the morning ; the first faint dawning being 
succeeded by a brighter and brighter 
light, and then merged into the perfect 
day. 

In May, 1822, he removed to Provi- 
dence, and established himself in his busi- 
ness on Constitution Hill. True to his 
Church connection, he soon joined a little 
Congregational band worshipping in a 
hall, on the corner of Dorrance and Pine 
streets, under the charge of Rev. Calvin 
Park, then a Professor in Brown Univer- 
sity. Feeling his deficiencies in educa- 
tion, Mr. R applied himself to the study 



398 Gilbert Richmond. [Oor. 

of the English branches, assisted by Mr. a prayer meeling; and, retnming lata to 

Harrison Park, a son of the Professor, his home, would get a few hours deep. 

He also began the study of Theology, and and, rising at one or two o'clock in the 

endeavored, by these courses of study, to morning, conunence the labors of the day. 

fit himself for greater usefulness in the In 1880, or '31, Mr. R., with two or 

cause of Christ The only time he had three devoted females, collected a few 

for these pursuits, was aAer the labors of children together at a place called ^ the 

the day were ended, between the hours of Cove," on the spot where the African 

9 and 11, P. M., and rare intervals through Church now stands. Their parents were 

the dav when he could seize a few mo- so detrradcd and indiflerent to the welfare 

ments from his hard toil for bodily rest, of their children, that the ladies were 

Among his associates at this time were a obliged to take the little ones oat of bed, 

number of pious young men, students in and wash and dress them ; and Mr. Rich- 

the University ; and he was greatly en- mond brought them bread for their hunger 

conraged by their sympathy, and assisted before they went to their Sabbath School 

by their counsels. lessons. 

The Church referred to, and that wor- So began a Sabbath School, afterwards 
shipping in the " Old Tin-Top," united, of marked influence in that locality, then 
in 1825, under the ministry' of Rev. Al- one of the worst in the city. Mr. Moses 
bert Judson, in what is now the Rich- Healy was its first Superintendent, sus- 
mond Street Church. The following year tained by other brethren, from the Rich- 
Rev. T. T. Waterman was settled as their mond Street Church and other churehes, 
stated pastor. Tlie fervid, active piety of as teachers and laborers, edicient in the 
this young pastor, fired the kindred nature good work. 

of the young Christian .soldier. At this One of tliese mission meetings was held 
time Mr. Richmond was a mechanic, liv- on Federal Hill, amidst a population such 
ing on Constitution Hill. Feeling that if that, repeatedly, the presence of a police- 
he had talents, they oujrht to be used in man guarded the meeting from being 
his Master's servii-o, and seeing the vice broken up. Yet the meeting, outgrowing 
and immorality that prevailed in and the house in which it was held, was re- 
around the city, he, and associated stu- moved to Mrs. Hammond's. Thechildreii 
dents of the University, under the coun- were gathered and taught on the Sab- 
sel of his pastor, entered on a course of bath by Mr. R. and Miss Sarah, and Mr. 
labor — then novel, but now becoming so Edward Pratt, and Mr. Joseph Brown. 
general — the sustaining of mission schools And, in 1833, a school house was built by 
and evening meetings for prayer, in dif- Deacon Chapin, and a Sabbath School of 
fercnt neighborhoods. In these self-deny- fifty-eight scholars and twelve teachers, 
ing labors are memorable, also, such organized ; and, by the cooperation of 
female names as Harriet Ware, Myra Mr. Richmond, and pious and devoted 
Daniels, Sarah Pratt, Lucy Stacy, Lucy teachers, the number was increased to 
Glover, and ^liss Lincoln, now Mrs. Oren about one hundred. This Sabbath School 
Spencer. These Christian females, with was the germ of the High Street Church, 
heart and hand, were always ready to A third school was commenced at India 
every good work. Point. In 1832, Miss Harriet Ware be- 

In this spirit of sacred enterprise, Mr. gan her work there. Ilcr whole soul 

Richmond, after working hard all day, was moved for the spiritual interests of 

would harness up his horse, and, with two the young. And a kindred zeal already 

or three kindred spirits, and sometimes moved Mr. R., as if toward his life-work 

alone, would go to some place on the out- for the young in Sabbath Schools. Miss 

skirts of the city, (then a town,) and hold Ware opened a day school at India Point, 



1859.] 



Oilberi Richmond. 



399 



and soon a Sabbath School was com- 
menced in connection with it In that 
work Mr. R. was called on to assist. And 
in her memoir, (page 18,) Miss Ware 
says : ** The gentleman who assisted in 
organizing the school, happened to be, of 
all men, the most suitable for the work. 
He could excite a deep interest, when 
most other men might as well have been 
asleep." Through all her labors and trials 
at the ** Point," she gave him her confi- 
dence, and received his assistance, in 
counsel and effort for the good of that de- 
graded neighborhood. Ae(][uainted, as 
he was, by his occupation, with the fami- 
lies there, he had facilities for cooperating 
with her, of which Miss Ware well knew 
how to avail herself in her plans of use- 
fulness. 

He also assisted her in removing the 
Home to Chestnut street. And, when it 
was located there, he purchased part of 
her supplies, and aided her, whenever 
opportunity presented, contributing, be- 
sides, of his limited means. 

In April, 1827, he went with Messrs. 
Henry Gushing, and John Dunwell and 
Deacons Walter Paine, Josiah Cady and 
S. S. Ward well, to the house of Benj. 
Dyer, Esq., ** to consider the expediency 
of forming a Temperance Society,'" and 
there was originated the first Temperance 
Society in Providence. This movement 
was regarded with jealousy and suspicion. 
The men who started it were looked upon 
as fanatics. The morning afler the first 
public meeting, two-thirds of his custom- 
ers declined their supply of bread from 
him, as he went his rounds, because, be- 
ing spirit-dealing grocers, he had put their 
money-making craft in danger. 

But he was not to bo driven from a 
humane and Christian principle by the 
loss of rum-selling patronage, although he 
needed every dollar of his income for the 
support of his family. In this business 
emergency, his temperance friends rallied 
around him — friends indeed — and made 
up, so £u: as they could, his loss of other cus- 
tomers. 



From 1827 to 1859, a period of thirty- 
two years, Mr. Richmond acquitted him- 
self ever, and everywhere, the staunch 
temperance working man ; and he who, 
in 1827, was persecuted, even to the 
purse, was at his death, Secretary of the 
R. I. State Temperance Society, and Presi- 
dent of the Providence City Temperance 
Society. Certainly, it was honor to 
whom honor was due. 

During the next four years his health 
failed from hard labor, and over-exertion ; 
and in 1831, being injured by a fall, ho 
sunk into a fever, so low that his life was 
despaired of; he being given up to die by 
two physicians. At this time, there was 
a revival in the Church and city, and the 
young men of the Church, feeling that he 
could not be spared, held a special meet- 
ing for prayer in his behalf. Their prayer 
was answered. He was raised up^by the 
gracious Hearer of prayer, and once more 
restored to those labors so dear to him, 
and in which he was so prized by his 
fellow-laborers. 

He afterwards often alluded to this, and 
to a similar case in Bristol in 1820, in 
which special prayer for him, was, in like 
manner, answered. In these solemn ex- 
periences in his own person of the power 
of prayer, he felt impressive proof that 
God loves to answer believing entreat}\ 
And this may, in part, furnish a clue to 
the love of secret prayer and communion 
with God, which, through his whole life, 
was one of his strongest characteristics. 

His health being now materially en- 
feebled, he could not resume his laborious 
occupation, and he engaged, for two years, 
in a lighter business. But Divine Provi- 
dence sent him so imperfect success in 
this, that he gave himself up to a species 
of missionary labor with those destitute of 
the means of grace, in and around the 
city. Surely an unseen hand was gradu- 
ally training him for and shutting him up 
to his life-work in the Sabbath School 
cause. He was, at this period, employed 
for eight months by the Tract Society in 
the city of Providence, part of the time 



400 



Gi&ert Biehmond. 



[Oct. 



serving gratuitously. And during this 
service, no less than twenty-eight hopeful 
conversions, under the Divine blessing, 
were traced to a connexion with his la- 
bors. 

Early in the year 1834, he labored 
gratuitously in the Tract and Sabbath 
School causes, conjointly. And now his 
gifts and fitness for his main work became 
known ; and he was soon appointed Sab- 
bath School Agent for the State of Rhode 
Island. 

In the year 1834 also, he assisted in 
the formation of the High Street Church, 
and in the re-organizing of the Sabbath 
School, Jan. 7, — which was removed from 
Federal Hill, and to which allusion has 
been made. In it he took charge of a 
female Bible Class. He continued an 
active member of this church until his 
removal from the city. And although on 
his return he resumed his early connec- 
tion with the Richmond Street Church, 
yet his love for, and interest in the High 
Street Church continued unabated. 

His commissioned public service in the 
Sabbath School cause extended continu- 
ously, from 1834 to 1839, when failure of 
health obliged him to ask a release from 
his engagement, and he removed to New 
Bedford in November. 

In 1840, he connected himself with the 
South Congregational Church in Now 
Bedford, and was appointed Superinten- 
dent of the Sabbath School, which was 
then in a languishing condition. Through 
his exertions and the cooperation of the 
teachers, by the blessing of God, a mark- 
ed change was soon apparent. Energy 
was infused into those connected with 
the school, and a new and permanent in- 
terest was manifested by all. He also 
organized a Juvenile Tempcnince So- 
ciety among the scholars, and assisted 
them in the practice of sacred music. 

In 1842, he was ordained Deacon of 
this Church, holding this office, and that 
of Superintendent, until 1845. During 
his residence in this city, he was engaged, 
afler business hours, and on the Sabbath, 



in prosecuting Missionary labors around 
the outskirts of the city, delivering Sab- 
bath School, and Temperance addresaes, 
and not unfreqnently, in the absence of 
the Pastor, was he called upon to sopply 
the pulpit of the Church with which he 
was connected. 

During the revival of 1841, he labored 
incessantly for the conversion of souls, 
and of^en atler the meetings of the eve- 
ning were over, would some, burdened 
with the weight of sin, and in distress, 
come to his house for instruction and 
prayer. However exhausted he might 
be, this was never denied them ; and, in 
several instances, morning dawned before 
they left ; many going away with a " new 
song in their mouths." By the blessing 
of God upon these labors, and in answer 
to fervent prayer, he had the joy of seeing 
his eldest daughter, his brother, with his 
wife, and others, rejoicing in Christ 

In 1845, he accepted an invitation to 
take charge of the Sabbath Scliool con- 
nected with the North Congregational 
Church, and on removing his membership 
to this Church, remained connected there- 
with until his return to Providence. His 
labors are gratefully remembered to-day 
by the members of the Church and Sab- 
bath School with which he was so long 
connected there. 

Being deprived the privilege of voting 
durinjxhis former residence in Providence, 
the first exercise of his elective franchise 
was in this place, and was deemed by him 
consistent with his early espousal of the 
cause of the oppressed. His first vote 
was cast for James G. Birney, the candi- 
date of the, then so called, " Liberty Par- 
ty." He ever remained true to the prin- 
ciples of this party. He acknowledged no 
party ties when they conflicted with his 
duties to God, and his fellow-men, and he 
was never accessor}', knowingly, by his 
vote, to the election of unprincipled men 
to office because they were put up by a 
party. 

In the spring of 1846, he returned to 
Providence, in acceptance of a caU from 



1859.] 



GiBfert Riekmond. 



401 



the Execative Board of the R. I. S. School 
Union, and resamed his labors as a Sab- 
bath School Agent He continued in this 
agency until 1849, when, in consequence 
of a change in the operations of the Soci- 
ety, whereby the labors of a general agent 
were dispensed with, he resigned his office, 
receiving a vote of thanks for his " very 
able and efficient services." One of the 
members of the Board remarks ; " I have 
been personally acquainted with all the 
agents which have been employed by the 
R. I. Sabbath School Union, since its 
organization ; and among them all, I con- 
sider our departed brother the most effi- 
cient, and this is proved by his having 
been so repeatedly appointed to the same 
office, when it had been the practice of the 
Board of Directors to exchange agents 
once in two years, and make the appoint- 
ments alternately from the Baptist, and the 
Congregational denominations." 

Visiting Lowell shortly after his resigna- 
tion, he formed the acquaintance of cler- 
gymen and others interested in the pro- 
motion of religious education, and received 
from them an offer of the office of City 
Mis^onary — which, after much prayerful 
consideration he was obliged to decline, 
feeling unable to perform the work that 
he saw was necessan'. By the advice, 
and with the assistance of kind friends, be 
engaged in business, on Washington street, 
and continued in active interest therein 
up to the time of his decease. 

It is difficult to form an estimate of the 
labors performed by him while in the 
Tract, and Sunday School agencies. The 
following summary, taken from his annual 
reports, will give some idea of the amount 
Of his labors, from 1833 to 1835, we have 
no record, save his diary for the latter 
year. About one-half the time he was in 
the Tract, and the other, in the Sabbath 
School cause. In the former, his daily 
visits numbered from sixteen to sixty. 
This summary only embraces his labors in 
the Sabbath School cause for the years 
1835, *37, '38, '46 and '48. 

Daring one-half the year ending April, 



1836, he travelled over 600 miles, much 
of it on foot; visited 60 Sabbath Schools ; 
delivered 57 lectures; and collected the 
necessary funds for defraying the expenses 
of the Union. — llth Annual Report, 

1837. During the year ending April, 
1838, he conducted the correspondence 
and other miscellaneous business of the 
Society, collected the necessary funds, 
visited all the towns in Rhode Island but 
one, and many of them several times; 
established and helped, so far as possible, 
in sustaining schools in districts where 
none ever before existed, and conducted 
the business of the Depository. In prose- 
cuting his labors he travelled about 1500 
miles, one half the distance on foot, deliv- 
ered 176 discourses and Sabbath School 
addresses, besides addresses to children in 
common day schools, whenever opportunity 
presented. — 18M Annual Report 

1838. Year ending April, 1889. Trav- 
eled about 1,700 miles, delivered 170 lec- 
tures and discourses, visited and addressed 
common day schools, as well as Sabbath, 
obtained subscribers for Sabbath School 
periodicals, collected monies for libraries, 
funds for the Union, conducted the corres- 
pondence of the Society, and managed the 
concerns of the Depository. He also lec- 
tured to schools in Massachusetts, border- 
ing on the State, which purchased their 
libiaries at the Depository. — 14/A Annual 
Report. 

1846. Year ending 1847. Traveled 
over 2^000 miles, visiting every town in 
the State but one. Lectured to 1 20 con- 
gregations and addressed 65 schools, be- 
sides several common schools, and also 
visited from house to house, and attended 
religious meetings. — 22rf Annual Report. 

Year ending April, 1849. Traveled 
about 2,000 miles, visited many common 
day as well as Sabbath Schools, and in 
some places from house to house among 
the people ; delivered 186 lectures and 
addresses, about two-thirds of them to 
adult congregations, in many instances 
where no religious service would have 
been held on the Sabbath but for his 



402 



Giibert Richmond. 



[Oct. 



presence, and in some cases being the 
only religious instructions given to a whole 
district for the year, except what was 
afforded by the Sabbath School. Up- 
wards of 20 more schools were put into 
operation this year. — 24fA Annual Report, 

Total for five years, 7,800 miles, 604 
lectures and addresses. 

The result of all his labors will only be 

fully known in eternity. Fifty places of 

worship now stand where he first planted 

Sabbath Schools, and many of them have 

stated pastors and regular services. 

When he first commenced his labors in 
many of the towns and villages in the 
State, there was no Sabbath, no sanctuary, 
and but seldom any religious services. 
The children were left to enofafro in their 
usual sports, while the parents were in the 
bar-rooms, the fields, or otherwise engaged 
in desecrating God's holy day. Now, 
through the influence of the Sabbath 
School, sometimes commenced with but 
few children and tejw^hers, assembled in a 
humble dwelling, the results are to be 
seen in a marked change in the people, a 
neat and commodious church, in which 
the gospel is regularly preached on the 
Sabbath, while the children are to be 
seen in the Sabbath School, in Church, or 
at home, reading their little papers, or 
books from the library of the Scjhool. 

God abundantly blesses the labors of all 
engaged in this precious work. 



TRAITS OF CHARACTER. 

I. Love of Secret Pkayeu axd Com- 
munion WITH God. 

A friend savs of him, '' I consider the 
success which attended his elforts to have 
been principally owing to the fict that he 
was a man eminent in prayer, especially 
secret prayer. I have held repeated con- 
versations with him on the subject of 
closet duties, and learned from his own 
lips his habit in this respect. It has been 
my privilege to accompany him in some 
of his travels into the country towns to 
attend Sabbath School exhibitions, and 
on these occasions I had abundant evi- 



dence that he pat his whole tmtt in God, 
and from Him alone sought guidance. I 
thus became convinced that his habit was, 
to be often at the throne of Grace, in 
secret prayer, and every man who thus 
continuously seeks divine aid in all his 
duties, will make hb mark in the world, 
in whatever sphere he may be placed.'' 
The same friend also observes : ** I was 
familiar with his labors and efficiency in 
the trat^t cause in this city, in which he 
elicited the approb.itiou of all the friends 
of that cause, while he was employed as 
agent, and so far as my observation went, 
he manifested the same reliance on divine 
aid and support, as he subsec^uently did 
in the Sabbath School cause." 

Especially in times when Grod*s pres- 
ence was manifested in the churches did 
this trait of character reveal itself, and at 
such times truly it might be said of him, 
that he knew what i: was to be ** in travail 
for souls," and to agonize in prayer. 
Many instances are known where nearly 
whole nights have been thus employed, 
and the early dawn has seen him on 
his knees, ** wrestling with God," if haply 
he might prevail, in behalf of some soul, 
in which he was interested, and with 
whom he was laboring ; and thus strength- 
ened, would he " go forth bearing precious 
seed." lie also believed that ** a man 
should be the executor of his own prayers," 
and that personal ellort, cooperating with 
the prayer of faith, would bring the bles- 
sing sought for. 

In times of trial, in affliction, and when 
in a strait to ])rovide for his family, in the 
earlier part of his life, he ever sought the 
throne of Grace for wisdom, comfort and 
help, and although he often mourned the 
wickedness of his heart, and the hidings 
of God's countenance from him, he felt 
assured that ** there was a fulness in 
Christ," and that God was willing to 
bestow all needful blessings, and that if 
he failed to receive, it was because of 
his unbelief, and bec«iuse his prayers were 
formal, dry and dead. But he often felt 
that he " could draw near to €rod, even to 



1869.] 



OUbert Richmond. 



403 



luB seaV' Aii<l u^ bis diary, Sabbath eve- 
ning, January 11, 1835, he writes: "I 
had a melting season at the family altar, 
this morning: it seemed as though the 
fountains of my wicked, hard heart would 
break up, and flow out, and melt down. 
I could plead for grace and felt that I 
needed it Oh I this awful stupidity, to 
know that one needs help, and that there 
is fulness in Christ, and willingness in Grod 
to bestow, and yet no disposition to apply, 
and if I make the attempt it is all formal- 
ity, so dry, so dead ! It has appeared to 
me, of late, that all my prayers were of 
this character. O ! can the Holy Spirit 
dwell here ; can the Saviour find a place 
to tarry ! dear Jesus : do come, drive out 
thine enemies and mine ; oh, take posses- 
sion of my heart, and use these powers for 
thyself." 

So he of^en expresses himself as in the 
following paragraphs : — 

August 23, 1835. '* I have been fa- 
vored with a little more freedom in prayer 
to-day, but have experienced much of de- 
pression." 

" * The Lord knoweth my frame.* If I 
did not believe this truth, I should at once 
despair and give up. I find this poor, 
weak body has much to do with my mind. 
O, that I might rise above, in my afflic- 
tion, and forget earth, in view of the love 
of Jesus." 

Friday, December 31, 1847. "The 
year is about closing, and with all its 
responsibilities sealed for the judgment of 
the great day. Have endeavored to recall 
its scenes and events. Three deaths 
among us. 

" I have failed in many things. I had 
hoped to have made more progress in the 
divine life, but feel that in all 1 come 
shorty and in many things fail altogether. 
Failed most in private devotion. O, for 
grace to mend the year to come, if spared. 
Resolve, by divine assistance, to be more 
prayerful — more constant with the word." 

II. Confidence and Trust in God. 
We have before alluded to the doctrine 
of Divine Sovereignty as being his great- 



est comfort in hours of trial, discourage- 
ment, and darkness ; and an extract from 
a letter written by him, in 1852, to an old 
and intimate friend, who had been be- 
reaved of a beloved companion, will illus- 
trate this point. (This letter was after- 
wards sent to his own bereaved widow, to 
comfort her under her heavy affliction.) 

" AVe feel that a breach has been made 
in that circle of old friends^ which has 
ever been near and dear to us. Oh ! how 
fast that circle is contracting. How soon 
it will be narrowed to its last and central 
point How uncertain who will be the 
last and closing one f I need not say that, 
in the midst of affliction, you have strong 
consolation, for, my dear brother, you 
long ago fled to the refuge of souls, and 
now you find that * Christ is indeed a 
refuge in time of trouble;' and while 
your heart bleeds at every pore, your soul 
can take hold of Him by a strong and 
living faith, that carries it above the storm 
and the beating waves, and you rest, in 
sweet peace and calm repoAC, in the 
Almighty arms. What but such a refuge 
could now sustain the soul 1 And oh 1 
what a blessing it is that the soul may bo 
thus sustained ! How glorious the Sove- 
reignty of God ! Infinite wisdom ! Infinite 
goodness ! Infinite power I AVhat more 
can we ask ? Too wise to err^ too good to 
he unkind, too strong to fail of any of his 
designs ! And now you can test the bles- 
sedness of that glorious Gospel of Jesus 
Christ, vhich you embraced, with all its 
precious doctrines, more than thirty years 
ago, and which your dear companion also 
embraced and loved, and which has led 
you both to make sacrifices, and practice 
self-denials for its promotion in the village 
where you have located. May God, in 
his kindness, give you and your dear fam- 
ily all the blessings of that Gospel, in this 
hour of your trial, — is the desire and prayer 
of your friend and brother in Christ." 

During part of the period that he was 
laboring in the Sabbath School cause, he 
sufiVired intensely, at times, from the sciatic 
rheumatism, induced by over-exertion and 



404 



GUberi Richmond. 



[Oor. 



exposure. Having to do much of his 
traveling on foot, and sometimes preach- 
ing with his foot resting in a chair behind 
him, it was exceedingly painful. At such 
times he longed for more strength and 
vigor, that he might do more for Christ. 
He writes : " O for more strength of body, 
and vigor of mind, and warmth of affec- 
tion, to do my Master's work ! My year 
is fast drawing to a close, and yet I feel 
that I am an unprofitable servant, but the 
Lord will, no doubt, find some one that 
will do more for Uim and the good of 
souls, the year to come. But let lUm do 
with me what- seemeth Him good. I hope I 
shall find in me the spirit of acquiescence 
in the Divine will." 

To a friend who called a few days pre- 
vious to his death, and who asked him 
how it was with his soul, he replied, ** God 
is a Sovereign, but in Christ is a sufficient 
Saviour, — if not, I am lost ; but I am not 
lost, for God is my light and my salvation ; 
whom shall I fear? The Lord is the 
strength of my life ; of whom shall I be 
afraid ? In the time of trouble He shall 
hide me in his pavilion, he shall set me 
up upon a rock." 

IIL Energy and Perseverance. 

One who was associated with him, in his 
earlv labors, writes, " I think there was 
no trait of character more conspicuous in 
our deceased friend, than his untiring 
energy and perseverance in a good cause. 
Of him it may truly be said, He has not 
lived in vain." 

It was through these qualities of mind 
that he, by the blessing of God, was 
enabled, with a broken and shattered 
body, so long to battle with the disease 
which finally was victorious, and which 
enabled him to engage in his business and 
in labors lor his Master, until very near to 
the close of his life, and during his labors 
in the Sabbath School cause to lulfil his 
duties, even when, through bodily infirmi- 
ties, he was obliged to give up and sink 
under them. At this time he writes : '* I 
feel thankful that God in his providence 
keeps me in this field. I have to lament 



my want of bodily strength and vigor, but 
if I must wear out, this is a good cause to 
work in." Again — ^ The Lord has been 
gracious and merciful through the season 
so far, and has not laid me aside a single 
Sabbath, and I have been enabled to do a 
large amount of speaking and traveling. 
In all I have found die promise sure, * As 
thy day is, so shall thy strength be.' My 
purpose is to serve the Lord in my genera- 
tion, that when by the will of Grod I sleep 
with my fathers, I may rest in Christ my 
Redeemer and my Lord." 

Again — '^ Returned home to-day, so 
exhausted as to be almost unable to keep 
up. But it is good to wear out, if I can 
but be made instrumental in building op 
the Kedeemer*8 kingdom, and saving the 
young from the paths of the destroyer." 

IV. Love to his Kindred axd Race. 

It was this element of his character that 
made his presence so welcome wherever 
he was called to labor, and in whatever 
sphere he was placed, and early led him 
to espouse the cause of freedom and hu- 
manity, and to engage in labors in behalf 
of his fellow men. In the family circle, 
where he was best known, these qualities 
were pre-eminent. 

One who had been in his employ, as an 
apprentice, in 1827, says : " I always look- 
ed upon him as a father, having lost both 
my parents in infancy, and he was truly a 
father to me." 

Another, who stood over the casket con- 
taining his last remains, said : *^ Oh, he 
waij a true man ! a true man ! He was a 
friend to the poor man." 

In his Diary, Nov. 20, 1835, he writes : 
— " Held a meeting in Hard-Scrabble last 
night. No other white person present 
except myself. An old Indian woman 
present who had been a professor sixty- 
three years. 

I love to v.^vvy the Gospel to the poor 
despised colored men, they are so rejoiced 
that any one cares for their souLs. Oh ! 
that the Lord would make me an instru- 
ment of good to them." 

Again — On New- Year's day, 1849 — 



1859.] 



GUbert EicAmond. 405 



.after Tisittng several poor families and aa- bore testimony that his soul was in the 

sisdng them, he writes — ** I have made at work. 

least oncy happy to-day." The last religious meeting that he at* 

T. A Pbculiak Faculty por Interest- ^^^^^^^ °"* ^^ ^^ ^^*^' ^^ ^ *^® C^°«>" 

iNo Children. ciation, at Westerly, R. I., June, 1857. 

Where many failed to make an impres- The morning prayer meeting of the Ck>n- 

vion on children's minds, or to excite their sociation will never be forgotten by some 

interest, he seldom or never was unsuc- of those present Mr. K. alluded to the 

oessfuL fact that in the great revival in Bristol, 

Did he wish to enforce any duty or in 1820, the moderator of the meeting, 

rebuke any sin, he had some incident Rev. Joel Mann, was pastor of the Con- 

ttdapted to secure the attention, some gregational Church, and two of the breth- 

simple illustration of truth, drawn from ren present were, with himself, subjects 

the common occurrences of the school- of that revival, and co-laborers. After 

Toom, the play-ground or the family, which so long a time, (87 years) these were 

seldom failed of the right impression. permitted to come together in a prayer 

One writes from the early field of his meeting : all being or having been, offi- 

laboTS, *' it was always a gala day here, cers in the Church of Christ 

when Mr. Richmond was to speak to the 

children." ' The closing part of his life was such as 

During all his labors his family duties might have been expected. Although, at 

were not neglected. He always assembled times, sufiering intense pain, he was sub* 

his children — ^when they were young — missive and trustful in God. His mind 

around him on Sabbath evenings, and in- seemed to grow clearer as his body failed) 

structed them in the Bible and Catechism, and his reliance on the truths of that 

and those instructions are gratefully re- Gospel which he had so long believed and 

membered by them now, and the influence loved, firmer and firmer to the close of 

of them, and of his consistent Christian ex- his life. Those who were privileged to 

ample, has kept them in many an hour of be with him during the last days and 

temptation, and with his prayers in their hours of his life, gathered much of wisdom 

behalf, and at the family altar, have been and religious experience from his lips, 

blessed to the conversion of all of them. and could truly say, " Let me die the 

His faith in the covenant promises of death of the righteous, and let my last end 

€rod was strong, and early led him to con- be like his." Two weeks before his death, 

secrate his children in baptism, the two he became convinced that he was ap- 

«ldest being among the first children bap- proaching the end of his labors on earth, 

tized in the Richmond Street Church, by and said : " I feel that my work here is 

Rev. T. T. Waterman, and the names of nearly done. I have passed the crins and 

all of them have been enrolled on the feel that I am sinking. I shall die, how* 

books of the Church as members, and as ever, in the full belief of the glorious prin- 

a testimokiy that God's covenant promises ciples of our articles of faith, as they were 

are sure. when I joined the Church." Again, " I 

During the revival of 1857-8, he was do not fear to die. I settled the great 
present whenever his health permitted question nearly forty years ago, and I 
him to attend the Union meetings, and shall not begin to doubt now." 
his remarks, coming from one who stood ** During the intervals of sleep, his 
as it were on the borders of the grave, mind seemed to be dwelling on the prom- 
could not fail of producing a good effect, ises of God, and full of the Scriptures ; 
Although unable to engage actively in such expressions as these falling from his 
labors as he wished to do, yet his closet lips, ^ God is my rock and my salvation ; 

VOL. I. 52 



406 Gilbert Richmond. [Ocr. 

whom shall I fear ? ' ' I will pat my whole heard joining with theirs, clear and strong, 

trust in Him.' * O, how wonderful have at intervals in the hymn. An appropriate 

been the dealings of Grod with me ; so prayer was then offered. At its close, he 

good, so kind, so forbearing ; I will praise said, " You don't know how much good 

him with my whole heart Mj heart is 70a have done me ; " and soon after, 

fixed, trusting in Him.' " ^ Lord, now lettest tiioo thy servant de- 

" God has truly been a covenant Grod part in peace." 

to me. How thankful I ought to be. He On Monday morning he had a veiy 

has led me through life until I was fifty painful hour and his watchers thought he 

years old, and provided for all my wants, was dying ; but by their exertions and 

and for my family, and since that time has attention he rallied. His sufferings were 

prospered me in my business. My chil- not to be ended then. Through Monday 

dren are all professedly in Christ, and I he was very low, and through that night 

have nothing to wish for of earthly bles- and Tuesday, his sufierings, at times, were 

sings and comforts. I have trusted in agonizing. He said, '* I am disappointed 

Him, and he never disappointed me." to find so much vitality in this poor old 

To others he said, " no fears, no fears, body, and if the Lord spares my life he 

Heaven looks bright ; I am going home." will do it at immense cost" In the after- 

" I would not shrink from sufiering all noon of that day, he called his family 

that the Lord designs, but if it were possi- around his bedside, and gave them a 

ble, I would be delivered from this in- " patriarchal" blessing and benediction, 

tense anguish." ** Oh, this poor brain. An interval of freedom from the intensity 

would I could be relieved a moment from of anguish, followed until ten o'clock, 

this constant thinking, thinking." when he became so much distressed that 

" I want no great demonstration made for the first time, and at his own request, 

when I am dead, nor a fulsome epitaph an anodyne was administered. Through 

placed on my tomb-stone. All I want to the night and day following he was quite 

be recorded there is — ^ An honest man.' comfortable and calm. As he took the 

" I have no aflinities for any place away anodyne, he prayed, " Lord, give me rest ; 

from my Saviour. I shall soon be Lord, give me sleep," and soon after sank 

home." into a quiet and refreshing sleep. He 

To one who called on him, and who had remarked this evening that " for 

had not a hope in Christ, he said, " My three years before his mother-in-law died, 

friend, remember these are the words of ho had daily prayed that her descent down 

a dying man: ^Religion is the thing to the hill of life might be smoothed, and her 

live by, and the thing to die hy' " last days be her best," " and," said he. 

On one occasion his brother read to " the Lord heard my prayer, and she 

him, by request, the 90th Psalm — " I^rd died as gently as an infant goes to sleep 

thou hast been my dwelling place in all in its mother's arms, if it be God's will, 

generations ;" and as he proceeded, the I would that such might be my end." 

voice of the deceased was heard, clear From his knowledge of his own constitu- 

and full, responding, " Yes, that is it. tion, he had feared that the last struggle 

Amen. Yes, yes, all true." would be a terrible one, and his constant 

The Sabbath e vening before his death, prayer was for rest, for sleep. God heard 

as the family were seated in a circle his j)raycr. On Thursday evening, March 

around his bed, he requested them to join 1 7th, he seemed comfortable as usual, and 

in family worship. The 14th chapter of at ten o'clock closed his eyes in sleep. 

John was read, and all joined in singing About twelve o'clock, he opened his eyes, 

the beautiful hymn, " AVhile Thee I seek, and in reply to a remark from one who 

protecting power," and his voice was watched with him, that he seemed to be 



1859.] 



GUbert Biehmtmd. 



407 



haying a refreshing sleep, said, " He giv- 
eth his beloved sleep." 

About 4 o'clock, a change was observed 
and the family were aroused ; but before 
they leached hb bedside he was gone, with- 
out a struggle. God answered his prayer, 
and gave him sleep. " Those that sleep 
in Christ will God bring with him." " The 
Christian cannot die before his time. The 
Lord's appointment is the servant's hour." 

It may truly be said that he served his 
own generation, out of devoted love to 
his Lord. In his conversion, he bowed to 
the sovereign will of God, in all-devoting 
love. Then for two years, at Bristol, in a 
life of consistent Christian activity, he lost 
not sight of the welfare of souls. On 
Constitution Hill, he pursued the same, in 
self^ulture by night, in the orchestra, the 
conference and prayer meeting, the Sab- 
bath School, in reforms for temperance, 
purity and freedom, in the Tract service, 
in his long Sabbath School agency, in 
prayer by day and by night, sometimes by 
night until the day broke, and in all vari- 
ous Christian fidelity to his own family, 
until his children, publicly dedicated, by 
their parents, to God in baptism, all sat 
down with them in the same Church com- 
munion. Besides, through bis whole life, 
as he had opportunity and occasion, he 
** labored, working with his own hand," 
for human comfort And of his means, 
less or more, he gave freely in charity, for 
the good of the living generation of men. 

But disease summoned him to his long 
rest On the sick bed, his last night 
there, he opened his eyes at the midnight 
hour, and said, gratefully, '* He giveth 
his beloved sleep." Before morning came, 
the sleep God gave was the long repose. 

" I heard a voice from Heaven, saying 



unto me. Write, blessed are the dead which 
die in the Lord from henceforth : yea,saith 
the Spirit, that they may rest from their 
labors, and their works do follow them." 

Although in accordance with his early 
education and preferences, he was im- 
mersed, his views afterwards changed on 
that subject. The providence of Grod 
seemed fitting him for this cherished field 
of Sabbath School labor. His immersion 
gave him free access to all the churches 
of the Baptist denomination, and he could 
sit with them at the table of the Lord. 

He was early imbued with an ardent 
love for our Congregational Church polity, 
and ever extended a helping hand to the 
feeble churches of our communion, not 
only by laboring in their behalf, but giv- 
ing of his limited means for their support. 

For twelve years he faithfully served 
the R. I. Home Missionary Society, as 
Treasurer, and one of its Board of Direc- 
tors. The Secretary of that Society, in 
his last Report, after noticing the death of 
Mr. R., says : ** His interest in the Home 
Mission cause, which he had so long and 
faithfully served, his prayers and coun- 
sels for its welfare, did not cease while he 
lived. His memory will be ever associated 
with the Sabbath School, Temperance, 
and other beneficent enterprises of our 
State ; but with none more closely than 
with this Home Missionary work, which, 
as his associates well know, lay very near 
his heart. Can we better honor his mem- 
ory than by imitating his example of sel^ 
denying devotion to the spiritual interests 
of our little commonwealth ?" 

And are there not many other Chris- 
tian . laymen whom this example shall 
quicken to the honoring of the Master by 
a similar devotion to His cause ? 



408 



XiBtewy N(diees, 



[Oct. 



§0ok$ 0f Jnterjesi t0 (S^ongrtga^thmalbis* 



Moral Philosopht. By Joseph Haven, 
D.D. 12mo, pp, 366. Gould & Lin* 
coin, Boston. 

Professor Haven makes good use of the 
skill he has gained as a Pastor and Pro- 
fessor, in treating his subject. Minds, not 
altogether juvenile, will be obliged to him 
for treating morals independently of meta- 
physics. True there is an introductory 
chapter in the old style, on which we will 
say a word hereafter; but the essential 
parts of the book are concise, practical, 
sensible and beautifully arranged. 

He begins at home, with the duties to 
one's self; self-support, self-control and 
self- culture. In part second, the duties 
pertaining to society are treated ; such as 
life, Liberty, Property, Reputation, Ve- 
racity. In part third, the Duties to the 
Family, including Marriage and the Pa- 
rental Relations. Part fourth treats of the 
duties to the state, including a very intel- 
ligent sketch of the theories of government, 
kinds of government, the duties of sub- 
jects to states, of states to subjects, and of 
one state to another. These topics are all 
discussed with sufficient fulness as well as 
precision ; there is no arbitrary temper or 
manner indicated. Justice is also rendered 
to cotcmporary and ancient theories, by 
separate historical sketches. By this method 
the flow of the discussion, and what is 
more valuable — the moral impression — is 
not intemipted by side controversies with 
authors or sects. The fifth, and last part, 
is occupied with our duties and feelings 
towards God, including chapters on obe- 
dience, worship, prayer, the Sabbath, its 
institution, and authority. 

This work has been -vvrittcn \\'ith an eye 
to the discussions that have taken place 
within the last few years on the higher law 
and Slavery ; without, however, a contro- 
versial aspect. The old questions as to war, 
oaths and lying are also well discussed, 
but not with so much zest. Probably the 
principal use of a new American work on 
Moral l^ilosophy, is to treat the late 



American questions ; on the more ancient 
topics, no one can expect to surpass Paley 
in felicity and cleazness of illustration, or 
Wayland in dignity. Among us, the foun- 
dations of the right to personal liberty will 
need to be examined and re-examined, so 
long as many intelligent citizens are under 
the necessity of inventing new arguments, 
or discovering new analogies, against per« 
sonal liberty. In cars and watering places 
we hear that Pharaoh was quite excnsablo 
for holding the children of Israel in b<md'> 
age up to the date of the first plagae. All 
men — yoimg and old — should be provided 
with clear views on this subject, in order to 
counteract such absurdities, whether in 
books or conversation. Our tendency ta 
party spirit, too, requires all the counter^ 
acting influences of a high standard of per- 
sonal rcsponsibiUty— ^uch as this work 
enforces. 

After approving the body of this work, 
as we do, highly, it may appear ungra- 
cious to object to the Introduction, which 
occupies the first fifty pages ; but to us it 
seems not in keeping with the general im- 
pression of the remainder of the work, if 
not prejudicial to it. "We have no fault to 
find with Dr. Haven for placing the *• rule 
of right " in the will of God (as he does on 
page 50,) but his reasoning on the "gjroimd 
of right," or " that which constitutes right" 
is not satisfectory. He puts it (on page 
27) not in utility, not in law, human or 
di\ine ; ** not in the nature or character of 
God himself," (page 45) but " in the eter- 
nal nature of things," (page 46.) On this 
"eternal nature of things" he founds it 
rather than on the nature and character of 
God, in order that it may be more ancient 
and more fundamental ; also in order that 
(pages 41,47,) any change in the foundation 
of right may be avoided, whatever change 
may occur in the Divine nature. To this 
we say : — if the search is for a foundation, 
ancient and stable, we know nothing in 
Theology or Philsophy, more ancient, fun- 
damental or stable than the nature and 



1869.] 



LUerafy Natieet. 



409 



character of God. Any search or analyais, 
back of God's nature and character, for 
foundations out of which may spring the 
nature and character of God and **the 
foundations of right," we cannot make in- 
telligently, not to say reverently. We ob- 
ject to ** the nature of things " as a basis, 
on grounds that are practical as well as 
philosophical ; for if this is the ground of 
morals, we shall never have a perfect and 
complete system until all this ** nature of 
things " is revealed to us. 

Essays, Lectures, Etc., upon Select Top- 
ics IN Revealed Theology. By Nathaniel 
W. Taylor, D,D., late Dwight Professor of 
Didactic Theology in Yale College, New 
York : Published by Clark, Austin & 
Smith. 8vo., pp. 488. 

Another volume of the scries containing 
Dr. Taylor's works. This one contains 
pajiers on the Trinity, Human Sinfulness, 
Justification, Election, and Perseverance. 
Valuable as a permanent contribution to 
Theological Literature from a man of won- 
derful ability, and especially interesting as 
defining precisely those views about which 
so much contention existed once, even if it 
has yet died away ; in this form they take 
their chance for intelligent adoption or re- 
jection. Of their truth or error, we, as a 
whole, express no opinion, for very conclu- 
sive reasons. As a contribution to the 
course of New Enjgland historic theology, 
they will take their place on the shelves of 
every student. 

A Historical Sketch or the Congrega- 
tional ChfRCHES in iLk.8SACnURETT8, 
from 1620 to 1858, with an Appendix^ by 
Joseph S, Clark, D.D., Secretary of the 
Congregational Library Association, Bos- 
ton : Congregational Board of Publica- 
tion. 12mo. pp. 344. 

It is a little remarkable that no " sketch ** 
like this had been offered to the public at 
an earlier date ; yet it is matter of grati- 
tude that the work was reserved for a hand 
so competent. A personal acquaintance 
for years, in an important official capacity, 
with the entire field to be described ; a 
natural fondness for antiquarian research ; 
a sound judgment ; an honorable candor ; 
unusual facilities for the collection of facts, 
and the (in this connection, rare) power of 
self-denial in not telling all that one knows 
(to the overpowering of printer and reader 



alike) ; — ^these fitnesses were noely eom- 
bined to prepare this author to perfonn 
this work. By consequence the result is a 
valuable — we had almost said invaluable — 
one. It places, in a • cheap and compact 
form, in the hand of the intelligent man 
whose time, or taste, or opportunities do 
not favor original and extended investiga- 
tion, the means of rapidly gaining a bird's- 
eye view of the features of Congregational- 
ism in Massachusetts ; a view which not 
only aids in the interpretation of our entire 
civic annals, but which is essential to the 
right understanding of many questions now 
awaiting public decision. 

We wish the book could find a welcome, 
at least to every Congregational dwelling in 
the State, to whose history it is devoted. 
It is finely printed, and sold at an exceed- 
ingly low price. D. 

Thb Great Concern ; or Man*s Relation 
to God and a Future State, By Nehemiah 
Adams, D,D,, Pastor of the Essex Street 
Church, Boston. 12mo. pp. 235. Bos- 
ton : Gould & Lincoln. 

Such is the title-page of a neat volume 
containing a re-print of the author's six 
tracts, known to the religious world as 
"Truths for thb Times." They first 
appeared ** during the general attention to 
the subject of religion, in 1857-8," and 
were drawn out, say the publishers, through 
" a desire expressed by some of the author's 
parishioners that certain discourses which 
had been of service to inquirers, should be 
printed in the fonn of Tracts, for general 
distribution," — of which tracts, they more- 
over tell us, ** more than eleven thousand 
copies have been sold." They were ad- 
mirably suited to that revival season, and 
were eminently helpful in bringing souls to 
Christ. The topics — •« Instantaneous Con- 
version;" "Justification and its Conse- 
quences ;" " Our Bible ;" " Scriptural 
arguments for Future, Endless Punish- 
ment ;" ** B^asonableness of Future, End- 
less Punishment;" ** God is Love" — are 
divested of their sermon form, if they were 
ever so constructed, and appear not unlike 
that number of popular articles taken fix)m 
a religious Quarterly. The book will always 
be seasonable, for there are always to be 
found cases which its lucid, earnest and 
evangelical teachings are adapted to meet ; 



410 



Literary Noiiea. 



[On. 



bnt in seasons of special religious interest 
it will find its most appropriate sphere. 

Britisu Novelists axd their Styles; 
Being a Critical Sketch of British Prose 
Fiction, By David Masson, M, A., Pro- 
fessor of English lAterature^ Unirersity 
College, London, Boston: Gould & Lin- 
coln. 12mo., pp. 332. 

To those who have read the published 
volume of the ** Life and Times of John 
Milton,*' no commendation of I'rofessor 
Masson's patient investigation and clear 
style will be needed. The present work, — 
on works of Fiction as a form of Tiitcra- 
ture, — early British Prose Fiction, — the 
British Novelists of the Eighteenth Cen- 
tury, — Scott and his influence, — ^the Novel- 
ists since Scott, embracing those now 
living, — is marked by all the author's clear- 
ness, and also by a careful and happy 
analysis of the past and present writers in 
this department of letters, and with no lit- 
tle philosophical classification. Our read- 
ers who familiarize themselves with this 
species of literature, (and a scholar must,) 
will do well to studv this work. 

The Ai'tocrat of the Breakfast Table. 
Boston: Phillips, Sampson & Co., 1858. 

lliis volume, asi the readers of the Con- 
gregational Quarterly arc aware, is a col- 
lection of articles published originally in 
the Atlantic Monthly^ now being folio wed by 
another series, entitled the ** The Professor at 
the Tea Table." Of the exquisite touches of 
humor, the fine sabre-strokes of wit, and 
the literary excellence of the style, we shall 
attempt no re\'iew. 

Much that is suggestive, admirably said 
and often illustrated with point, or beauty, 
or both, never to be forgotten, falls from 
the smiling lips of the Autocrat-Professor. 
lie is always readable. 

But we must protest, in the name of sim- 
ple justice, against his recent abuse of lit- 
erary neutrality in the Magazine of which 
he has been the chief attraction. In the 
"Autocrat" we have but occasional and 
vague hints at his religious sentiments. 
The May number of the Atlantic^ contains 
a somewhat disguised and adroit assault 
on the Theological opinions of a large por- 
tion of its readers — opinions underljing, and 
interwoven with, the history of New Eng- 
land. 



No intelligent reader would fetter the 
right of free discussion; but wc condemn 
its flagrant abuse in this instance. Dr. 
Holmes commences his article with a deli- 
cate fling at the weakness of the senaitiTe 
lady who expressed her fears that hia in- 
fluence was at least questionable, touch- 
ing spiritual verities, upon some minds ; 
assures us that the great truths of zevda- 
tion, like the practice of law and medicine, 
are emerging from barbarian darkness; 
that Pres. Edwards was a crude and tmen- 
durable old Puritan, "turned 00"" by his 
parish in Northampton, because the people 
were wiser and better than he ; sneers at 
*• Cotton's Hemarkable Judgments of God** 
— and also at ortliodox expositions of the 
IVodigal Son ; and then shrewdly covers 
his attack from anticipated indignation by 
allusions to Shimei and Rabshakeh, and a 
beautiful appeal to veoman — all this in the 
columns of a Magazine professedly non- 
committal on theological differences, and 
closed against all articles of orthodox ring 
and odor. 

We might, were it in the scope of this 
notice, allude to ^Ir. Bancroft's eloquent 
refutation of the unworthy, self-damaging 
thrust at the great Edwards, whose worst 
accusers lived to "repent in dust and 
ashes " ; and to the modest self-defence of 
the Professor at the anniversary festival, 
comparing this hatred of orthodoxy, ta» 
kingly expressed for superficial readers to 
the mighty truths and ideas sent forth by 
sober and lofty minds to an, at first, indif- 
ferent or hert^tic world. We afliim, how- 
ever, that this breach of good faith will 
follow with its odium, the longest possi- 
ble life of the Monthly whose dawning ex- 
istence it marked. 

A History of the Town of Norton, 
BiiiSTOL Co. Mass., from 16(19 to 18.39, 
hy Gcorgf Fnber Clark ^ vicmher of the Old 
Colony Historical Society , Corresponding 
member of the Xew Kngland Historic- 
Genealogical Society^ and minister of the 
Congregational Parish, Boston: Crosby, 
Nichols & Co. 

This is a full, and we presume essentially 
accurate narrative ; written in the interest 
of the XJnitaaian Church — so far as then? 
has been any controversy between that 
Church, and Trinitarians in the town — 



1869.] 



literary Notices. 



411 



and Bometimes a little brusque in its tone, 
yet containing ample stores of valuable 
fiicts ; enriched with a large number of 
portraits, autographs, &c. ; well written, 
admirably printed, and, in the main, just 
such a history as there ought to be of every 
town in the Commonwealth. 

Minutes of the General Conference 
OF Maine ; eU their Thirty-third AnntuU 
Meeting held with the State Street ConffrC' 
gational Church, PortUuid^ June 21, 22, 
23, 1859» Bangor : Wheeler & Lynde, 
Printers, No* 1, Bowman's Block, 1859. 
pp. 76. 

Excellent as usual, and full of minute de- 
tails relating to current ecclesiastical his- 
tory, not alluded to in the title. Ketums 
deceived from all but ten of the churches, 
which blanks seem to be supplied from re- 
turns of previous years. Conferences, 14 ; 
248 churches, 190 clergymen, 2,405 admis- 
sions (1,924 on profession, and 481 by let- 
ter,) 906 removals (323 by death, 543 by 
dismissal, and 40 by excommunication,) 
19,221 members (2,912 non-residents,) 923 
adult baptisms, 358 infant baptisms, 20,510 
in Sabbath Schools, $27,595 donations. 
Net gain of members, 1,379. 

Minutes of the General Association of 
Massachusetts at their Fifty-seventh An- 
nual Meeting held at Pittsjield, June 28-30, 
1859. With the Pastoral Address^ the 
Narrative of the State of Religion^ and the 
Statistics of the Churches, Boston : 
Crocker & Brewster, 47 Washington St. 
pp. 76. 

New tj'pe, in part, and improved ar- 
rangements of tables. Crocker & Brewster 
publish this for the thirty-eighth time, and 
Mr. J. M. Everett puts the tables in type 
for the twenty-fourth successive year. All 
the churches of our faith and order in the 
State are here reported. Summary, 485 
churches (81 vacant,) 586 ministers (338 
pastors, 80 stated supplies, 168 others,) 
76,784 members, (10,553 absent,) 11,340 
additions (8,811 by profession, 2,529 by 
letter,) 3,676 removals (1,188 by death, 
2,410 by dismissal, 78 by excommunica- 
tion,) 1,719 infant baptisms, 4,095 adult 
baptisms, 80,285 in Sabbath Schools. Net 
gain of church members, 7,135. 

MiifUTES OF the General Convention 
OF Vermont, at their session held at Ver- 
germes, June, 1859, unth the Report of the 
Correaponding Secretary^ and the Statistics 



of the Churches, "V^^dsor : Vermont 
Chronicle Book and Job Printing Office. 
1859. pp. 47. 

Handsomely printed, and worthy of 
handsome printing, — excepting that three 
churches are not reported, and six others 
are estimated from previous statistic^. 
Fifteen Associations, 192 churches (25 des- 
titute,) 222 ministers, (67 pastors, 91 stated 
supplies, 58 without charge, — 7 having 
been ordained, 7 installed, 9 dismissed, and 
2 deceased,) 17,778 church members, (a net 
gain of 1,123,) 2,588 absentees, 1,992 ad- 
missions (1,483 by profession, 509 by let- 
ter) 743 removals (265 by death, 418 by 
dismissal, 60 by excommunication,) 618 
adult baptisms, 337 infant baptisms, 14,- 
523 in Sabbath Schools, 23,858 average in 
congregations, and $22,877 45 donations. 

Minutes of the Annual Meeting of the 
Rhode Island Evangelical Consocia- 
tion, held at Little Comptorif June 14, 
1859: With the Report of the Rhode 
Island Home Missionary Society, and of the 
State of Religion, Providence : Printed 
by M. B. Young, 33 Westminster Street. 
1859. pp. 24. 

"Faithful are the wounds of a friend ;*' the 
page of statistics is this year complete. 
Total, 21 churches, 21 ministers, (15 pas- 
tors, 6 stated supplies,) 3,452 Church mem- 
bers, (990 males, 2,462 females, the only 
Minutes which accurately distinguish in 
this important matter,) 539 admissions, 
(398 by profession, 141 by letter,) 158 re- 
movals, (50 by death, 101 by dismissal, 7 
by excommunication,) 177 adult baptisms, 
110 infant baptisms, 3,466 in Sabbath 
Schools. Net gain of members, 381. 

Minutes of the General Association 
OF Congregational Churches and 
Ministers of Indiana, at its meeting in 
Indianapolis, May 12, 1859, with an Ap- 
pendix. Indianapolis : Indianapolis Jour- 
nal Company, Printers. 1859. pp. 20. 

We are glad to see this pamphlet, as 
coming from Western brethren, although 
sorry that they have not wheeled into the 
statistical line. This year they enumerate 
32 churches, 14 ministers ; and 25 of the 
churches report 940 members. As our 
brethren plead their scattered condition, 
and promise that ** every effort will be 
made to secure perfect statistics in the fu- 
ture," we forgive their shortcomings, with 



412 



CongregtiimiA Necrciogy. 



[OOXL 



tliA liope that fpaiing the rod will not 
spoil the — statistics ; and wc assure them 
of our sympathy in their Christian labors* 

Minutes of the General Association 
OF Illinois, at the Annual Meeting in 
Bhomington^ May 26, 27, 28, and 30, 
* 1859. Together toith the Constitution, Ar- 
tides of Faith, Rules of Business, 6^* 
Ottawa : Printed at the Free Trader 
Office. 1859. pp. 44. 

A most decided improTcment on prccc*> 
ding issues. Rev. S. H. Emery, with all 
who have assisted him, deserves great credit 
for doing so well under depressing circum- 
stances. Nine Associations, 172 ministers, 
(45 without pastoral charge,) 177 churches 
(38 vacant,) 11,841 members, 2,333 ad* 
missions (1,295 by profession, 1,038 by 
letter,) 806 removals (101 by death, 644 
by dismissal, 61 by excommunication,) 414 
adult baptisms, 426 infant baptisms, 15,611 
in Sabbath Schools. Net increase of mem*- 



ben, 1,627. In thui xeport, the flgmei of 
16 delinquent charchet were CQ|ned from 
previous years, of which Babwqueiidj 
reported, but iiithout materially affiBcting 
the result. Another year will bring tibe 
Illinois figures to the true IcrcL 

Mixttes of thz Obneaal Associatiox or 
MicuiGAN, at their meeting in DetroUf 
l/ayl9,1859. IVithan Appendix. Adrian: 
Steam Press of Ingalls & Jlilla. 1859. 
pp. 41. 

A very respectable document. Appen- 
dix F will just suit Bro. Trask. The Sta- 
stistics show that nobody need despair of 
improvement. Apart from that fact, how- 
ever, these Statistics are a very great ad- 
vance. Our principal objection is that no 
satisfactory Summary is presented. Such 
as it is, it reports 7 Associations (or Con- 
ferences,) 105 ministers, 118 churches, of 
which 109 report 6,768 members. Don't 
omit the Summary next year. 



€ansxtgviiianixl |]tjerr0l00g* 



Kcv. AUSTIN OSGOOD IIUBBARD 
died in Brattlcboro', Vt., Aug. 24th, 1858, 
aged 58 years and 15 days. 

lie was bom in Sunderland, Ms., Aug. 
9th, 1800. His father was Dca. Pliincas 
Hubbard, and his mother, Catherine, was a 
daughter of Dca. Elisha Nash of Williams- 
burgh, Ms. They removed with their fam- 
ily to Stanstcad, C. E., in 1801. In early 
life he was thrown from a loaded cart, one 
of the wheels of which passed directly 
across the lower part of his breast, from 
which hurt, however, lie soon recovered ; but 
the state of liis health in later life, and es- 
pecially the revelations of a post mortem 
examination, gave reason to believe that 
this caused a displacement of the bowels 
which at length residted in his death. 

He prepared for College with the Rev. 
Daniel Willie, of (iuebcc, C. E., and at 
Amherst (Ms.) Academy. He was grad- 
uated at Yale College in 1824, He then 
taught the Academy at Franklin, Md., at 
the same time pursuing theological studies 
imder the direction of the Presbytery of 
Ualtimore, from which, in October, 1826, 
he received license to preach the gospel. 



"\\Tiile Principal of that Academy, he 
published "Elements of English Gram- 
mar ; with an Appendix containing Exer- 
cises in Parsing, Examples of False Orthog- 
raphy, Violations of the Rules of Syntax, 
Exercises in Punctuation, and Questions 
for Examination." Baltimore : Cushing & 
Jewctt, 1827, pp. 220. 12mo. 

Tlds work was characterized by an emi- 
nent teacher as " better adapted to the 
present state of American literature than 
any other yet published." 

He preached a year and a half as a licen- 
tiate, and was then ordained to the work 
of the ministry by the Presbytery of Balti- 
more. He labored as a missionary in Fred- 
erick County, Md., about two years. In 
1830, he became Principal of Harrisburg, 
(Pa.) Academy, at the same time supphing 
a neighboring Church. In 1831, he went 
to Princeton Theological Seminary, where 
he spent two years in study, and preached 
regularly to vacant churches. In October 
1833, he was appointed Assistant Professor 
of Bi])lical liiterature during Prof. Alexan- 
der's absence in Europe. In' 1835, he went 
to Melbourne, C. £., where he labored 



1859.] 



Cor^egatioMU Necrology. 



418 



three years as a missionaiy, and gathered a 
flourishing Church. About the first of 
May, 1840, he commenced preaching at 
Hardwick, Vt., and on the 7th of July, 
1841, he was installed pastor of the Cong. 
Church and Society in that place. During 
his pastorate at Hardwick he published 
•• Five Discourses on the Moral Obligation 
and the Particular Duties of the Sabbath." 
Hanover, N. H. William A. Rugglcs, 
1843, pp. 160, 16mo. 

This is a concise but satisfactory discus- 
fiion of the subject, and contains as good a 
Sabbath Manual as is to be foimd. His 
last literary labor was a revision of this 
work, to be published by the American 
Tract Society, but the work was left un- 
finished. He was dismissed horn his pas- 
torate in Hardwick, May 1st, 1843. 

In 1845, he took charge of the Congrega- 
tional Church in Bamet, Vt., and preached 
statedly till 1851, when he retired from 
that charge, but continued to reside in 
Bamet, employed as a teacher and an oc- 
casional supply for destitute churches. 
During his res*<*»»nce in Bamet he held the 
offices of Town Clerk and County Super- 
intendent of Common Schools. In 1855, 
he became stated supply of the Church in 
Craftsbury, Vt., where he remained till the 
Fall of 1857. The death of his -wife, which 
occurred Aug. 7th, 1857, after a protracted 
illness, gave him a shock which completely 
prostrated him, mentally and physically. 
The following memorandum in his diary 
was made at that time : ** Aug. 8th. Yes- 
terday at 8, P. M., my most tenderly be- 
loved wife, Julia, departed from this world. 
I now feel like a lonely pilgrim in a dark 
worid. Oh Lord ! help me to bear this 
heavy load. Give me grace meekly to 
submit to thy chastening stroke." He at- 
tempted to resume his labors, but was une- 
qual to the effort, and remained at Crafts- 
bury but a short time. The last entry in 
his diary, under date of Sept. 27th, 1857, 
is as follows : " Am exceedingly feeble, 
prostrated both in mind and body. Oh 
Lord ! help ! or I sink." His last agoniz- 
ing cry was unanswered, for he had finish- 
ed the work which the Master had given 
him to do. He soon went to a brother's 
in Stanstead, C. E., and remained till 

VOL. I. 53 



March, 1858, when it was found expedient 
to remove him to the Vermont Asylum 
for the Insane at Brattleboro*. Here, un- 
der the care of the Superintendent, Dr. 
Wm. H. Rockwell, his classmate at Yale, 
he continued till his death. His remains 
were conveyed to Stanstead, and buried 
among his kindred. 

Mr. Hubbard married, 1st, in 1832, 
Mary T, Gray don, daughter of "Wm. Gray- 
don, of Harrisburg, Pa. She died in 1834, 
and he married, 2d, in 1837, Julia Ann 
Hayes, daughter of Rev. Joel Hayes, of 
South Hadley, Ms. 

Fervent piety and thorough scholarship 
combined to render Mr. Hubbard a faith- 
ful and able minister of the New Testa- 
ment. His views of di>'ine truth were 
^lear and strong, his manner of presenting 
them forcible and impressive. His sermons 
were logical and weighty with matter. In 
delivering them, he was somewhat con- 
strained at first, tUl he forgot himself in 
his subject, when he preached with an en- 
ergy and unction, which if it was not elo- 
quence, was better than that. His sensi- 
bilities were acute, almost to morbidness, 
and he sometimes suffered severely from 
trials and annoyances incident to min- 
isterial life, which a ruder nature would 
have endured with contemptuous indiffer- 
ence. He had a warm, affectionate, and 
sympathizing heart, which fitted him suc- 
cessfully to minister to others the consola- 
tion which he could not receive in his own 
afiiictions. His praise is in all the 
churches with which he labored, and he 
yrHl long be kept in memory as the faithful 
pastor, the earnest preacher, the ardent 
friend. p. h. w. 



ELIHU WOLCOTT, lately a Deacon 
in the Congregational Church, Jacksonville, 
HI., died at his residence, Dec. 2, 1858, in 
his 75th year. He is entitled to a memo- 
rial here, as one of the founders of that 
"Western Congregationalism, which has ris- 
en in his day from its feeble beginnings, to 
its present strength and promise. He was 
•bom in East (now South) Windsor, Ct., 
and, in the year 1830, he removed with his 
large family to the West, having chosen 
for his future home the village of Jackson- 



414 



Oongr^cHoml Necrology . 



[Oct. 



villc, which had just been selected as the 
site of nUnois College, and which has be- 
come the pleasantest town in the state, and 
the appropriate seat of its humane Institu- 
tions, and of Tarious educational enter- 
prises. 

Ho was attached to the Congregational 
polity with the force of religious conviction, 
though devoid of prosclytism and sectari- 
anism ; 'i^'ishing others to enjoy their prefer* 
ences as &cely as he claimed the right to 
gratify his o-wn. He early enlisted in a move- 
ment for the origination of a Congregational 
Church ; and for his leading agency in this 
measure he was severely censured by his 
Presbyterian brethren, (some of whom had 
been trained as Congregationalists,) who 
regarded the new Church as an intruder in 
the field. There were then only two 
churches of this order in the State, or near- 
er to that point than the north-east part of 
Ohio. There are now 161 Congregational 
Churches reported in Dinois ; and let the 
present position of the Church in Jackson- 
ville, as one of the moral forces of the re- 
gion, decide whether its founders misjudged 
in this step ! If all the sons of New Eng- 
land Congregationalism, who have gone 
out to lay the spiritual foundations of the 
Great West, had cherished the faith of 
their Fathers as earnestly, and carried it 
out as consistently, can we doubt that our 
common Christianity would have been un- 
unspcakably the gainer ? 

Mr. AVolcott's sympathy with the cause 
of freedom and humanity was earnest and 
thorough, and the weak and oppressed 
foimd in him a steadfast protector and 
benefactor. In the assembly that came to- 
gether at his funeral, it was impressive to 
see so many of the poor Portuguese exiles 
and colored people, who seemed to appre- 
ciate the loss of their best friend in the 
community. The serrice was conducted 
by llev. J. M. Sturtcvant, D. D., President 
of Illinois College, (who had preceded him 
but a year in the territory,) to whom we 
are indebted for the following tribute to 
the deceased — beinj; the substance of a part 
of his remarks on the above occasion. 

** Three traits of character swm to me to 
have (listinj^uished our departed friend — 
intuitive insight and discernment of prin- 



ciples ; the power of giving his opnions a 
concise, lucid, and often irresistible czpn»- 
sion in language ; and an inflexible stead- 
fastness in adhering to his convictioins, in 
whatever circumstances, and at whatever 
cost . In his modes of life and the cbaxac- 
ter of his education, he ranked as a man of 
business rather than a man of study ; in his 
modes of thought and the style of his con- 
versation, a person unacquainted with his 
history would have placed him among 
scholars and philosophers. Few men ever 
used the English language in conversation, 
with greater purity and felicity than he. 
But eminent above all merely intellectaal 
traits was his unbounding adhesion to his 
convictions. Opposing public opinion, 
however overwhelming in its numbers, and 
however clamorous and imperative in its 
tone, did not move, nor even disturb him. 
He was not at all ambitious of the worid's 
honors or praises ; he was not even ambi- 
tious of being a man of influence. It was 
enough for him that he saw a truth clearly, 
that he enjoyed the luxury of giving it clear 
and forcible utterance, that he should stead- 
ily adhere to it to the last, and that, sooner 
or later, it must prevail and overbear all 
opposition. Whether we hold all the opin- 
ions of our deceased friend or not, we 
should all unite around his open grave in 
thanksgiving to God, that we have had one 
man in the midst of us who was willing to 
stand above and suffer obloquy, rather than 
be disloyal to his convictions of truth and 
right ; one man whose opinions were never 
in the market, and were formed, and held, 
and expressed, without the slightest n^rd 
to their bearing on his temporal interests. 
Such examples the American people need 
more, perhaps, than any other. Many per- 
sons seem to regard the utterance of an im- 
popular sentiment as a crime. Mr. Wolcott 
had formed his character in a verv different 
school of morals. And we should unite in 
honoring the noble example which in this 
respect he has set us, however we may dif- 
fer in respect to the truth of those opinions, 
which he maintained with so much steady 
consistency." 

Ilis last sickness was brief, and he sank 
peacefully to his rest — the serenity of wliich 
seemed to linger on liis countenance. 



1859.] 



Cmgregatiomal Necrology. 



415 



How mild to the righteous is the dawn of 
immortality ! How calm the sleep of 
death I — Eight of his eleven children survive 
him ; his oldest son is in the ministry. 



Rev. SAMUEL AUSTIN WORCES- 
TER, who died among the Chcrokces on the 
29th of last April, was bom at Worcester, 
Jan. 19, 1798, He was son of Rev. Leon- 
ard Worcester, who, the year after the birth 
of this son, was ordained pastor of the Con- 
gregational Church in Peacham, Vt. He 
became a subject of grace in early life ; was 
graduated at Burlington in 1819, and at 
Andover in 1823 ; was ordained as a mis- 
sionary of the American Board to the Cher- 
okees in Aug. 1825, and, two days after, 
started for that field of labor, where he 
prosecuted the missionary work with great 
ardor till 1831, when the well known diffi- 
culties in which the Board became involved 
with the State of Georgia, brought him into 
the penitentiary at Milledgcvillc, where he 
illustrated the spirit of primitive Christian- 
ity by suffering imprisonment for con- 
cience*s sake sixteen months. Released 
at length, in the spring of 1825, he removed 
his residence west of the Mississippi, 
where a portion of the despoiled Cherokees 
had gone, to be subsequently rejoined by 
the rest. Here in humble and assiduous 
toil, he passed the remnant of his life, 
which terminated, April 29, 1859, at the 
age of 61 years. 

Mr. Worcester was a man of integrity^ 
using that term in its widest sense. Pro- 
verbially honest, he never even teemed to 
fake advantage of those with whom he 
dealt. His judgment was eminently sound 
and practical. An opinion once formed, 
whether upon matters of public policy, or 
or private interest, seldom needed revision. 
And this was because he tried all questions 
at the bar of conscience, and of God's word. 
**Is it right? — To the Law, and to the 
Testimony." And in adhering to principles 
thus settled, he exibited a remarkable degree 
of moral courage. 

Of his intellectual habits it is perhaps 
enough to say, that he could seize with 
f^reat readiness the strong points of a sub- 
ject, and present them clearly, logically, 
and concisely. His mental armory was so 



well furnished, and his faculties so well 
trained, that he was rarely found unpre- 
pared, or off his guard. 

For the work of translation he had peculiar 
qualifications. Patient, cautious, critical, 
persevering, he has spent hours in the ex- 
amination of a doubtful word or phrase, in 
the endeavor to render precisely " the mind 
of the Spirit," where the idioms of the lan- 
guage forbade the ambiguity of the original. 
His constant aim was to transkUe, not to 
paraphrase nor comment. To furnish this 
people with the word of God in their own 
tongue was the ardent desire of his heart, 
and the object of his faithful toil — the 
wish he most longed to realise, to which he 
clung longer than to any thing else, and 
which called forth his latest energies. 

As a preacher he was discriminating, sim- 
ple, earnest, tender, evangelical. The one 
thing that he always made prominent was, 
** salvation through the atoning blood of a 
crucified Redeemer." Whatever might be 
the general topic of his discourse, lie never 
failed to introduce the cross of Christ. 
Whoever heard him preach once, heard 
enough to show him how he migbt be saved. 

[For a fuUer sketch of his life and labors, 
see Journal of Iklissions for July.] 



Rev. OTIS THOMPSON died in North 
Abington, Ms., June 29th, 1859. 

He was the son of Nathaniel Thompson, 
and was bom in Middleboro', Ms., Sept. 
14th, 1776. He graduated at Brown Uni- 
versity, In 1798. The two years following 
his graduation, he filled the office of tutor 
in College, was ordained over the church in 
Rchoboth,Ms.,Sept. 24, 1800; and continued 
in that connection tilihis dismission Oct. 
30, 1832. In 1840, he took charge of a 
church in Litchfield, Herkimer Co., N. Y., 
which charge he relinquished in 1849, and 
subsequently removed to North Abington. 

The following brief obituary is an extract 
from a sermon preached at the funeral of 
Rev. Mr. Thompson, by Rev. Jonas Per- 
kins. Text 2 Timothy i : 12, "For I know 
whom I have believed, and am persuaded 
that he is able to keep that which I have 
committed iinto him, against that day." 
Similar sentiments to what these words 
express were uttered by this aged minister 



416 



Ccft^r^atiomi Necrology. 



[Oct. 



of Chri«t near the close of his life. To the 
remark, " Sir, you have imifonnly preach- 
ed the doctrine that it is by the grace of 
God through Christ that men arc saved," 
he replied : •• Yci, I have always preached 
that ; have always believed it ; and I feel 
its truth more and more." The doctrines 
of grac*e he regarded as the sinecure milk of 
the word, the giiiial aliment of the belie- 
ver's spiritual life. Uis published dis- 
courses e\-ince that he had clear concep- 
tions of these doctrines, that he aimed to 
present them in the most lucid manner, 
and that he had singular ability to vindi- 
cate them. 

During his ministry he superintended 
the theological studies of fifteen candidates 
for the sacred office. Those who enjoyed 
Ids aid as a theological instructor had oc- 
casion gratefully to bear testimony to his 
suavity and kindness of manner, liis well 
systematized method, his discriminating 
elucidation of doctrine, the wisdom of hLs 
counsels, and his reverence for the Word 
of God as the only infallible standard of 
religious truth. lie was a worthy pattern 
of Christian urbanity and dignity, blended 
with modesty and affability. He was 
"courteous,"** meek," yet ** mighty in 
the Scriptures." 

His publications consist of a periodical 
— the Jlopkinsinn Maijazine — four volumes ; 
a volume of Sermons, Doctrinal and l^ac- 
tical ; a llcvicw of llev. Thomas Andros' 
Essav on Divino ElKcicncv ; and numerous 
ordination and other occasional discourses. 
'* These works show the author to liave 
been an acute metaphysical thinker, a dis- 
criminating writer, and a thorough, con- 
sistent lIoi>kinsian, who understood his 
IKJsition and deiinitions, and left no obsta- 
cles to prevent others from doing the 



same. 



tf 



Rev. CimiS TOPIIEll MAKSII died in 
Sanford, Me., Juno 30, ISoIJ. 

He was a native of Campton, X. II., 
bom August 1, 1791. Jlis b(\viiood he 
passed upon a fann, where his life, it seemed 
probable, was to be spent. Circumstances 
led him to the study of medicine, in which 
he had progressed to some extent, when, lit 
tl»c a;;c of Ul, he was converted. lie im- 



mediately began to fit for College, tbat lie 
might become a prtacher oi Christ and Him 
crucified ; worked and struggled his iray 
along, and was ready in a year ; graduated 
at Dartmouth College in 1820; studied 
theology under private instruction; and 
w-as ordained, June 4, 1823, over the Chnich 
in Sanford, 3Ie., where, after years of sepa- 
ration, he was finally to rest firom lus 
labors. 

He remained in Sanford but six or sercn 
years, removing to BiddcffHtl, Me., where 
he was again settled. From that place, 
removing to the vicinity of Boston, he was 
the first Secretary and General Agent of 
the ]^Iassachusetts Sabbath School Society. 
Returning to direct mimsterial labor, be 
gathered, at West Roxbury, what is now 
the South Evangelical Church, which was 
organized — ^then a feeble band — June 11, 
183o. There he remained (including an 
intermediate vear of labor in the service of 

m 

the j:\jnerican Sabbath School Union,) 
nearly sixteen years, — ^installed May 17, 
1837; dismissed Dec. 11, 1850. Three 
years after, he removed to Jamaica Plain, 
in the same town, mainly through sym- 
pathy with the Iklather Church, then just 
organized, in which he was a faithful 
laborer, thouirh not as minister. In the 
spring of 1858, his old people, at Sanford, 
urged him to preach there a few Sabbaths. 
He did so. He was besought to return and 
settle as pastor. He removed there, en- 
tered with all his earlv fer\'or into his 
beloved work, and was blessed with a re- 
vival wliieh more than doubled the Church. 
But he had miscalculated his strength. 
He forgot his added years ; and his health 
broke down. He died through his labars, 
but in his last days rejoiced that he was to 
die at work. The i>erson he liad asked to 
preach his installation sennon, was called, 
at liis o^^^l request, to preach at his funeral. 
'Hie life of Mr. Marsh was characterized 
by entire dovotedness. He had great prac- 
tical wisdom, warmth of heart, and was, in 
an e:niuent dcirreo, a ijoan of prayer. He 
wns a man of great firmness, and of Puri- 
tan steadfastness. AMiilc a parisliioncr, no 
man eould be more kind, judicious, or for- 
bc.iring ; to the young pastor of his Chun li. 
he was an invaluable friend and counsellor. 



1859.] Congregational Necrology. 417 

His life was a life of hard work. At San- The death of his partner, Col. Denny, in 
ford, when he settled, there were but six December, 1814, and the close of the war 
male members. The Church at West Rox- with Great Britain the same month, arrest- 
bury was almost a desperate cntciprise. ed their manufacturing enterprise for a 
The very weakness of that at Jamaica time, but, when it was revived by other 
Plain drew him thither. And the Church parties in 1821, Mr. Demond was employed 
at Sanford was struggling when he returned to superintend much of the work, and has 
to his earliest pastoral home. In quiet ever been closely identified with the inter- 
faithfulness, he did his duty ; and A\'ith such ests of the place, until age led him to retire 
eminent success, that hundreds traced their from active business. But his habits of in- 
con version directly to his instrumentality. dustry and his energy of character con- 

His sickness and death were happy, tinned to the close of his life. He was the 

though attended with the sufferings of con- patriarch of the village, and a pioneer of 

sumption. AVhen in his sleepless hours it manufacturing in that part of the State, 

was said to him, " I -wish you could get He was often called to serve the town in 

some sleep," he answered, **Do you tliink places of trust, and his good judgment and 

Hoses slept when he was upon Pisgah Y* integrity of purpose secured for him the 

Tins was the spirit of his last months, as it confidence and esteem of his fellow men in 

had been all his life. He trembled for weeks an eminent degree. He represented the 

on the verge of the grave, but was quiet town in the Legislatures of 1826, and 1833. 

and happy. Wishing to live for his peo- Soon after he came to Ware he imited 

pie's sake, yet he longed to depart and be with the Congregational Church in the cen- 

with Christ. Day after day was he disap- ter of the town, by profession, and became 

pointed that he did not wake with Jesus, one of its active and eificient members ; and 

He did, at last, leaving to the Church the in 1826, he took a prominent part in the 

memory of a man ** full of faith and of the establishment of the Congregational Church 

Holy Ghost." in the village. Of this Church he has been 

Mr. Marsh was twice married, and each a pillar, 

time most happily. His last wife, a fit Few men have so happy an old age. It 

helpmeet in the service of God, survives was his prayer that he might not outlive 

him ; and four children, (all by the first his activity and usefulness, and his desire 

marriage,) viz : Elizabeth P., wife of Ed- was granted to him. Blest in his house 

ward L. Goddard, of Claremont, N. H. ; and in his family, with all things needful 

Phebe F. ; Maria A. M., wife of John for liis comfort, the evening of life was to 

Haven, of Maiden, Ms. ; and Christopher him tranquil and cheerful. He felt a lively 

B., (H. C. 1855,) now of Chicago, 111. interest in the passing events of the times, 

and was well informed in all public and 

ALPHEUS DEMOND, Esq., died in benevolent enterprises. A gentleman of 

Ware, Ms., Aug. 27th, aged 80. the old school, holding fast to the truth, he 

Mr. Demond was bom in Paxton, in seemed to be a connecting link between the 

Worcester County, Ms., August 15th, 1779. past and the future. 

In early life he was a successful mer- But it was in his religious character that 

chant in Spencer. In April, 1813, in his life shone the brightest. He loved the 

connexion with Col. Thomas Denny, of Church of Christ, and enjoyed the religions 

Leicester, he went to Ware, and bought of interest of the last two years, and often 

James Magoon the mills and water power, expressed his gratitude that he Lived to see 

with four himdrcd acres of land, covering this day. His place in the Church on the 

the whole territory of the village, now con- Sabbath, and in the daily morning prayer 

taining nearly 3,000 inhabitants. At that meeting in the chapel was seldom vacant, 

time there was but a single house standing he having been at the latter meeting almost 

on the tract. The old cotton mill, demol- constantly till within two days of his death, 

ished three years ago, was built by him, He seemed to be ripening for heaven. In 

and so were most of the buildings erected the little circle that has met at his house 
there in the early history of the village. 



418 



CongregaHoml Necniogy. 



[Ocf. 



for a year and a half, every Monday eve- 
ning, for prayer, his Chri!»tian graces have 
shone out, gi^'ing evidence of his readiness 
to go to the Better Land. A severe attack 
of cholera morbus dosed his life in twenty- 
four hours. 

"hlii, Dcmond leaves a widow and seven 
children. Two sons are manufacturers in 
Ware, and two in Montague. One is a 
laTi-ver in Boston. His dau'^hters are the 
wives of Eleazer Porter, of Hadley, and of 
George H. Jones, of Victory Mills, X. Y. 



Rev. WTLLL^M BATES was the son of 
Rev. Joshua Bates, D.D., formerly of Ded- 
ham, Ms., and afterwards the honored and 
eminently useful President of ^liddlcbury 
College, Vt. 3Ir. Bates was bom in Ded- 
ham, Jan. 19, 18 IG. He united with the 
Congregational Church in ^liddlebury in 
the summer of 1836; was graduated from 
^liddlebury College in 1837, and at An- 
dover Theological Seminary in 1840. Two 
subsequent years were spent in teaching, 
with great acceptance and success. 

After supplying the pulpit in North- 
bridge for six months, he was ordained 
over that Church and Society, Nov. 5, 1815, 
and held this office twelve years. During 
liis pastorate there, there was a revival 
which left scarcely a family untouched. 
In 1858, he judged it best to close his con- 
nection with that people, and recci\ing a 
unanimous and cordial welcome to the 
pastoral office in Falmouth, Ms., was in- 
stalled June 16th, 1858 ; and there he died, 
Sept. 9, 1869, aged 42. 



Dea. JAMES TUFTS, died in West 
Roxburj', Ms., Sept. 6th, 1859, aged 59. 

Dea. Tufts w^as a native of Plymouth, 
lirls., where he passed the years of his mi- 
nority, surrounded by such social and re- 
ligious influences as "were not suited to 
foster an attichment to Orthodox v, but 
quite the reverse. It Avas not till after his 
removal to Boston that ho was brought 
into connection with evangelical instruc- 



tion. He made a profe ssi on of xdigian 
under the ministry of Rev. Lyman Beecher, 
who was then pastor of Hanover Street 
Church — which was afterwards rcmored to 
Bowdoin Street, where he was an officer 
of that Church. He possessed a disczizni- 
nating mind, and had a dear understanding 
of^ and strong attachment to, the distin- 
guishing doctrines of the Gospel. Having 
been brought up under the inflnence of 
Unitarianism, when he renounced that er- 
ror, he knew why and wherefore he em- 
braced the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel. 
Through a protracted illness, thc*j were 
his support and consolation. In iUnstration 
of this, at a time when too feeble to lesd 
himself, he requested the following, from 
Bishop Beveridge, to be read to him three 
times, and then three times more : — 

**This, therefore, is the righteousness, 
and the manner of that justification, where- 
by I hope to stand before the judgment 
seat of God, even by God imputing my 
sins to Christ, and Christ's righteousness 
to me ; looking upon mc as one not to be 
punished for my sins, because Christ hath 
8u£fcred, but to be received into the joys of 
glory, because Christ hath performed obe- 
dience for me ; and does, by faith, through 
grace, impute it to me." 

Dea. Tufts was remarkable for his equa- 
nimity, and was kind and affectionate in 
all his domestic relations. He had a deci- 
ded leaning towards the Puritanical, both 
in doctrine and practice, and yet proclaim- 
ed no war upon those who differed from 
him. Ilis religious views were held with 
great tenacity, and nothing but the most 
impregnable logic could avail to change 
them in the smallest iota ; and yet he was 
not a man to disfdlowship such as could 
not see with his eyes all sorts of things 
relating to "life and godliness." He would 
have stood his ground with Lot in Sodom ; 
while at the same time no body in that 
wicked city who knew him, could have 
failed to respect the blameless and gentle 
manner of his life. 



1859.] 



Quarter^ Record, 



419 



<!i;0n0r^gati0intl (^unrtjerlg |,Ur0rir» 



JUNE 28. Th« Union Congregational Cb. in Siadl- 
Bon, Wis. 

JTJLT 19. The Second Rcfnnned Dutch Church In 
Schenectady. N. Y., detached iteelf from its 
former relations, and adopted the Congrega- 
tional polity. 

AUO. 27. At Way land, Winona Co., Minnesota. 



JUNE 26. Rev. ROYAL RODBINS, from the Ken- 
•ingtoa Ch. in Berlin, Ct. 

" aO. ReT. D. n. BABCOCK, fh>m the Ch. In 
So. Plymouth, Ms. 

JULY 6. Rer. TUOMAS 0. RICE, from the Evan- 
galical Ch. In Brighton, Ms. 

*< 11. ReT. SOLOMON P. FAY, from the Ch. In 
Dayton, 0. 

AUO. 28. Rer. JOSEPH EMERSON, from the Ch. In 
Roeklbrd, 111. 

" aO. HeT. B. F. RAY, from the Ch. at Mcln- 
does Falls, Yt. 

** 80. ReT. LETI O. MARSH, fh)m the Ch. In 
Tlu>ma«ton, Me. 



iWiintetttd ®rtia{neti, or Sns^talleti. 

MAY 18. ReT. RUFUS M. SA\rYER, (Ute of Wln- 
throp, Me. ) oTer 2d Ch.. Great Falls, N. II. Ser- 
mon by R«T. £. B. Webb, of Augusta, Me. 

JUNE 28. ReT. PERKINS K. CLARK, OTer the Ch. 
in South Deerfield, Ms. Sermon by ReT. I^. 
Worcester, of Salem, Ms. 

« 29. ReT. JOHN O. WILSON, OTer the Ch. 
in Swanaey. N. H. Sermon by ReT. M. G. 
Bradford, of Grafton, Vt. 

" 29. ReT. EDWIN JOHNSON, OTer the Bowdoin 
Street Ch. In Boston. Sermon by ReT. J. P. 
Thompson, D.D., of New York City. 

" 29. ReT. WILUAM S. WRIGHT, (recently of 
West ATon, Ct.) OTer the Ch. in Chester, Ct. 
Sermon by Rer. J. L. Dudley, of Middletown, Ct. 

JULY 7. Mr. ALEXIS W. IDE, OTer the Ch. at Staf- 
ford Springs, Ct. Sermon by ReT. J. M. Bacon, 
of Essex, Ms. 

«< 14. ReT. NATHANIEL H. EGGLESTON, OTer 
the Union Ch., Madison, Wis. Sermon by Prof. 
Smith, of Lane Seminary. 

*' 22. ReT. GEORGE B. FISHER, (late of North 
Amherst, Ms.) OTer the Ch. In Mason Village, 
N. H. Sermon by IleT. John Dodge of Uarrard, 
Ms. 

AUGUST 8. ReT. M. £. STRIEBY, OTer the Plymouth 
Ch. in Syracuse, N. Y. Sermon by ReT. Jona- 
than Edwards, of Rochester, N. Y. 

" 24. Bfr. MOSES TAYLOR, OTer the Ch. in Owego, 
N. Y. Sermon by ReT. Dr. Kitchel, of Detroit. 

" 25. Mr. HENRY G. M'ARTHUR, OTsr the Ch. 
at McGregor, Iowa. 

** 80. Mr. JAMBS M'LEAN, OTer the Ch. in 
Thomaston, Me. Sermon by ReT. Prof. Phelps, 
of AndoTer, Ms. 

SEPT. 7. Mr. GEO. F. IIERRICK, at Essex, Vt., as 
a Missionary of the A. B. C. F. M. for the North 
Armenian Mission. Sermon by Rct. John U. 
' Uerrick, of Malone, N. Y. 



SEPT. 14. Mr. ABBOTT £. KITTREDGE, OTer the 
Winthrop Ch. io Cbarlestown, 3Is. Sermon by 
ReT. A. C. Thompson, of Koxbury, Ms. 

" 14. ReT. £. A. BUCK, OTer the Ch. In MelroM, 
Ms. Sermon by Rct. Dr. Shepard, of Bangor, 



Me. 



(C 



14. Rev. J. W. HEALY, (formerly of Gardner, 
Mi.,) over the Ch. in Walpole, Ms. 

« 21. ReT. 0. S. TAYLOR, OTer the Ch. In Sims- 
bury, Ct. Sermon by Rct. President Woolsey, 
of Yale College. 

[In our last number we stated that Mr. Stephxk S. 
MsREiLL had been ordained OTer the Ch. In Maiden, 
Hi. It should liaTe been Rct. Stkphxit S. Moeull.j 



t( 



ii 



iSinigterg iSartieti. 

JUNE 2. ReT. D. D. T. M'LAUGHLIN, of Sharon, 
Ct., to MARY W.. daughter of the late Rct. O. 
L. Brownell, of Snaron. 

2. ReT. JOHN D. EMERSON, of HaTerhlll, N. 
H., to Miss SARAH J. DUDLEY, of Candia, 
N. H. 

22. In South HIngham. Ms., ReT. ABEL G. 
DUNC^AN, of Freetown, Ms., to Miss A31ELIA 
WILDER, of S. U. 

JULY 28. In Orono, Me., Rct. HORATIO ILLSLEY, 
of Mechanic Falls, Me., to Mrs. ELLEN M. 
SILSBE£, daughter of ElUah Webster, Esq., of 
Orono. 

" 29. ReT. N. C. HASELTINK, pastor of the Ch. 
in Springfield, Vt., to MARY A., daughter of 
ReT. R. F. Lawrence, of Claremont, N. U. 

AUG. 6. Rev. WM. H. WARD, of Ablngton, Ms. to 
Miss ELLEN M. DICKINSON, of Sudbury, Ms. 

** 22. In Sutton, Ms., Mr. ALVAH LILLIE FRI8- 
BIE, pastor elect of the 1st Cong. Ch. In Anso* 
nia, Ct., to Miss JERUSHA SLOCUMB, of 8. 

" 28. In Vennontville, Mich., by Rct. W. B. 
WillUms, of Charlotte, Rct. JOHN G. W. 
COWLES, of OberUn, Ohio, to Miss LOIS M. 
CHURCH, of V. 

SEPT. 6. In Somers, Ct., ReT. E. C. BISSELL, of 
West Hampton, Ms., to Miss EMILY, daughter 
of Dea. Oren Pomeroy, of S. 

" 7. In North Amherst, Ms., Rct. GEORGE B. 
FISHEK, pastor of the Ch. in Mason Village, 
N. U., to Miss ELLEN E., daughter of Lyman 
Kellogg. 

•* 13. In ProTidence, R. I., Rct. JONATHAN 
LEAVITT, D.D., pastor of Richmond St. Ch., 
to Mrs. ABBY G. B. PACKARD, of P. 



JHtnteterg Beceaseti* 

JUNE 26. In North Abington, Ms., Rct. OTIS 
TU0M1>S0N, aged 88 years, 9 mos. (See Necrol- 
ogy) 

29. In Branfleld, Me., Rct. JAMES TATTON, 
aged 85. 

80. In Sanford, Me., Rct. CHRISTOPHER 
MARSH, aged 64 ys. 10 mo. (See Necrology.) 

JULY 24. In Winthrop, Me., ReT. GEO. H. SHEP- 
AUD, son of Prof. S., of Bangor. 

" 80. In Frankfort. Me., Rev. STEPHEN GOULD, 
pastor of the Cb. in Poland, Me., aged 59. 

SEPT. 9. ReT. WILLIAM BATES, of Fahnonth, 
Ma. aged 42. (See Necrology.) 



Ci 



(I 



420 Quarter^ Medings^ &c. [Oct. 

AMERICAN CONGREGATIONAL UNION, NEW YORK. 

Thb Trustees of the American Congregational Union, at their meeting April 12, appropriat- 
ed to Congregational churches as follows, viz : — Mendota, 111., $100 00; Newton, Jasper 
Co., la., $^50 00; Canton, Ms., 5300 00 ; Middleton, Wis., ^^200,00; Indianapolis, Ind., (es- 
pecial,) 050000. By ejtpecto/ is meant those instances where an individual or a Church gives 
the money for the Church to which it is appropriated. If said Church comes within the roles 
which govern in other cases, and complies with the usual conditions, the Trustees are only too 
glad to be the almoner of all such especial benefactions. 

At their meeting May 3d, an especial appropriation was voted to the Congregational Chorch 
of Flushing, L. I. At their meeting. May 23d, an especial appropriation was made to the 
Congregational Church at Abington, 111., of $250 00. Voted, That the Annual Report of the 
Trustees, the Treasurer's Report, and the Annual Address, be published in the Congrega- 
tional Quarterly. June 27, appropriations were made to Congregational Churches as follows, 
Tiz. :— Wyandotte, K. T., $500 00; El Paso, 111., $300 00; Worth, Mich., $250 00; Aurora, 
111., $200 00; Prescott,^Vis., $200 00; Nevada, Cal., $30000; Grand Haven, (additional,) 
$100 00 ; Winona, Min., $500 00 ; Church of the Pilgrims, Milwaukie, $500 00. 

Since our annual meeting there have been paid to churches as follows, vix. : — Mendota, 
$100 00, by the 1st Congregational Church of Newton, Ms, — Rev. D. L. Furber, Pastw; In- 
dianapolis, Ind., $50000, by Wm. Allen, Esq., New York; Flushing, L.I., $-25000, by Chaa. 
Abernethy, Esq., of New York ; Grand Haven, $300 00 ; Winona, $500 00 ; Milwaukie, $500,- 
00 ; Geneva, K. T., $100 00, by Nelson Kingsbury, Esq., of Hartford, Ct. ; and to the Chuich 
at Hudson, Wis., $250, by Abner Kingman, Esq., of Boston. 

It is proper to state that the appropriations of the last meeting were much aboTe the aver- 
i^^e. Some of them were especial ; some very urgent cases, the houses, if not the churcheff, 
periled without immediate aid. In most of these cases, however, there is good reason for 
believing that the gift will speedily be returned, with large interest. The receipts since the 
Anniversary have been, for May, $'933 95 ; for June, $818 07 ; for July $276 05 ; for August, 
$317 07 ; total, $2,345 14, — a less amount for the four months than is needed every month. 
May the future be more propitious ! 



QUARTERLY MEETING OF THE CONGREGATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. 

In the necessary absence of Edward Buck, Esq., who had been appointed to read a paper 
on " Ecclesiastical Councils, in their legal aspects," at the August meeting, the Correspond- 
ing Secretary was requested to read an article which he had prepared for this periodical, (see 
pp. 359-368,) on the "American Home Missionary Society and the N. S. General Assembly." 
A free discussion of the subject matter by the members present, elicited their warm appro- 
bation of the paper. 

At an adjourned meeting two weeks later, the Association were favored with Mr. Buck's 
production, the result of a thorough and instructive research into the history, authority, and 
legal proceedings of Ecclesiastical Councils, as established by usage among New England 
Congregationalists, — for which the thanks of the Association were voted, and a copy request- 
ed for such further use as the Directors may see fit to make of it. 

The Librarian reported the following donations in books, &c., during the quarter, via:— 

Rev. J, 
Kimball, 
S. 
ton, 

W. ^\'hitney, 1 v. ; Rev. I). D. Field, D.D., 1 v. ; Kev.' A. U. Daahlell, 13 pamphlets, and tho writing desk of 
Rev. I>r. i:<tephen West, formerly of Stockbridge. 




The Editors and Proprietors of this Quarterly are able to assure their subscribers that its 
success has been such as to make it certain that it meets a felt want, and will be permanently 
sustained by the denomination to whose interests it is especially devoted. They are happy to 
add also that the experience of the year has been such as to authorize its continuance at the 
same price, and ttith a somewhat increased size. And, in the belief that they give to each aub- 
scriber a generous return, they beg the kind co-operation of all in extending its circulation as 
widely as possible. Please remember that the money must always accompany the order. 



INDEX. 



Norm.— The names in the list of ii(nd«ntt in Theologleal Seminaries, on pp. 182-6, and thow of donors to tin 
Congregational Ubrary Association, and to the American Congregational Union, on pp. 330-^, 824-6, and 
420, ai« not included in this Index. The examiner is also reminded that the Mume name mi^ ocoor re- 
peatadlj upon the same psge. 



Abbott, 61, 103jll5 

Abercrombie, 199 

Aberoetby. 101. 420 

Academy, Phillips AndoTer, 885 
*( " Exeter, 835 

Adamv fil, 100-'8, 106, 268-70, 
81Ltl8, 819, 885, 355, 409 

Addtoon, 199, 259 

Adey, 376 

Adriui I., 206 

Aiken, 818, 819, 822 

Alnsworth, 808 

Albro, 51, 832 

Aldeo, m, 281 

Alexander, 21, 891, 412 

Allen, 47, 60, 61, 101, 103, 265-7, 
826,420 

Alllot, 891 

Allon, 181 

Alton Pnebytery, its relation to 
A. H. H. Soc., 859 

AlTord, 102. 149 

Ambrose, 18, 28 

Am. OoDgriii^oiial Union, account 
of, 59, 281, 420 ; annlTermry of; 
821 ; annual report, 821 ; trea- 
BarMr*s report, 924 ; officers, 826 : 
feetiral,^ 

Am. H<mie MlMilonary Society, ori- 
gin of, 8G0, 362 ; and New School 
General Assembly, 859-868 

Amherst College, t^raduates of, no- 
tlcecL96, 96, 268, 812, 816 

Ames, 818 

Anderson, 60, 100, 281, 811, 826, 
882 

Andover Theological Seminary, 
l<>anded,46; semi-centennial me- 
morial, 811 ; 889 

AndOTer Tbeol. 8em., Mortoary 
Statistics of, 857, 858 

Andrews, 108 

Androe, 60, 160, 416 

Anthony, 890 

Appolonins, 78 

Arebiteetnre and Christian prin- 
ciple, 878-85 

Ari8totie,76,118,279 

Arios,121 

Arms, 100, £80 

Armstrong, 241 

Anowsmith.241,884 

Amndal, 286 

AshJbrd, Ct,, Cong. Chhs. in, 265 

Ashton, 180 

Association, Mara. General, histori- 
cal sketch of, 89-68 ; officers, 60, 
61 

Aasoeiatkm, New York General, or- 
ganised, 167 

Assorjetioni Ibr religions benero- 
lenee. Cotton Mather's, 244-6 

Atkinson, 61 

Aloiiemeint, works on, noticed, 809 

Atwater,104 

AngnstiiM, 18, 110, 121, 128 

Austin, 44, 46, 49, 60, 114, 818 



ArerUl, 819 

Avery, 169, 178, 176, 231, 850, 861, 

854 
Ayer, 280 
Babcock, 418 
Bachelor, 102 
Backus, 41, 48, 51, 100, 111, 117 ; 

lift) of Isaac, notired, 216-17 
Baron, 60-1. 102, 107, 146, 186, 188, 

811,821,324,826,418 
Badger, 51, 811 
Bailey, 229 
Baird, 818-19 
Baker, 102, 108, 280, 267 
Balcb, 224 
Bale, 281-2 

Ball, 100, see obituaries, 225, 231 
Ballantine, 48 
Ballard, 815 

Bancroft, 26. 29, 42, 101, 181, 410 
Baptists, missionary efforts of, 889 
'' statistics of, 126. 385 
" Free-will, statistics of, 127 
Barbour, Barber, 51, 186 
Barker, 41, 270, 891 
Barnard, 41 
Barnes, 21. 248, 826 
Baroniua, 18 
Barry, 181, 259 
Bantow, 815 
Bartlett.. 46, 101, 108, 116, 230, 818- 

19,332 
Barton, 47 
Bascom 50, 229 
Bass, 265-66, 866 
BasseU. 188, 230. 268, 818 
Batee, 101, 280, 818, see obituaries, 

418-19 
Baxter, 259 
Baylie«,180 
Basin, 812 
Beach, 280 
Beckwith, 280 
Beecher, 49, 51, 60, 806, 826, 882, 

418 
Bell, 102, 108, 808 
Bellamy, 118 
Bement, 61 
Benedict, 826 
Bennett. 51 
Bent. 50 
Bentiey, 100 
Bernard, 98-4, 121 
BeveridKe 418 

Bible, Wickliffe's, 286; cost of, 287 
Bigelow, 12. 16. 51, 280, 281 
Billings, 103, 266 
Bingham. 61, 280 
Biographies and Biographical notes; 

see Table of Contents. 
Bimey, 401 
Bisbee, 101 
Bishop, 267, 889 
BIssell, 419 
Bkckmore, 248 
Blaekstone, 268 
Blagdcn, 61, 811 



Blake, 267-8, 818-19, 866 

Blakeiy, 818 

Blakeman, 95 

Blanchard, 51, 231, 819 

Bliss, 186, 819 

Blodgett, 51 

Blommaert, 187 

Bloomer, see obituaries, 96, 103 

Boardman, 224 

Bonar, 90, 92, 94 

Bond, 819, 834, 887 

Book notices, see Table of Con- 
tents. 

Bordwell. 819 

Bonnd, 271-2 

Booton, 832 

Bowdoin ('ollege, graduates of, no- 
ticed, 270 

Bowen, 826 

Bowers, 101 

Bowes, 142 

Boyd, 818 

Boylston, 260 

Boynton, 101 

Brackett, 103 

Bradford. 29, 50, 102, 104, 129-80, 
18fr-7, 280, 418 

Bradstreet. 884 

Brainard, 280 

Braman, 44. 51, 101-2, see obitu- 
aries, 223-4, 281, 811 

Branch, 818 

Brand, 280 

Braaer, 187 

Brack, 351 

Breed, 102 

Brewster, 29, 102, 158, 851, 411 

Brickett, 101 

Bridge, 318 

Bridgman, 819 

Brigg8,44 

Brigham. 100 

Brinsmade,61 

Brittan. 889 

Brock, 199 

Bmdbead, 187 

Brooklyn, Ct., Cong. Chhs. in, 860 

Brooks, 101, 108, 887 

Broughton, 888 

Brown, 51, John R., obituary of, 
99 ; 104, 116, 179. 281, 811, 334, 
389,898 

Brown UniTerslty, graduates ot no- 
ticed, 47, 268, 415 

Brownell, 419 

Bruen, 868 

Brute, 294 

Bryan, 102 

Bucer, 76 

Buck, 102, 231, 318. 418-19 

Buckingham, 102, 216, 3(i4, 326 

Budington, 60, 186, 811, 326 

Buell, 268 

Bulkley, 51 

BuUard, 50, 61 

Burder, 892 

Buzdiek,d08 



VOL.1. 



54 



Bniioriw. as iilnm la IVIodbuu Ua., Ct.tH, DhUpr, 108 

Bon, 1T3-T, STT rongTHUlDiuO TJbnu? A»mIi- DutDMoUi Collgn, gnAantm at, 

Biin,31i> lioD.luoHaiiiiandutdMl', TCl-a; HMkcd, 4J-T, m, SK, MB, >U. 

]lDrt«i,4G,S13 daDonilD.^^l.tZUi iD»linE < 416 

~ ' i«ll.5I, ICO^.SSO int.zat; ■nimit iiir«ln«.337; DiiH, IDS 



BuOr, 3»2 r«p<>r», b27, 8ai;bulldii>efUiia. DanDpon, SIS, BBS 

BjlDgun, 100, I0S,!31 3ai ^ qimrlcrly ii'»lin(i>, SSi, D>TMmi,ZS,IB 

42IJ; oIBnnor, H32 DiTii, 39, Gl-Z, ICO, SK, MM, 

Cadmll, !es CODinmulDnal QniuUil?, noltf. 119, S28.3KI 

Cwlf.ase IM, 132, UO ; snitCoDi. IJbn.- Tta>,^,aifi, S<M 

"-■"-ii, 324-6 _ rr A»nrt»Oon,327-*; anacon- TIbmod, offlto of, 6iI-;o 

1,88, 10,1(0, UT-18, Ul, giT«HloDil Union. GB2.ai9 ScDtrbj.lS] 

•" '■onKrrgmlkiiui' "—'—-•- '- ■•■- '■ -■ "■ '- ••'-" 



CalUiu, 324-6 

... _ „ j^ UJ-IB, m, 

Cnlred SbiUe, IHl^ ; ^d Kde- Deniwi 

lud,a8S-W IMnnr, nr, 10.1'. 

CootrnHoialStaUorBUilMloiii, KuiointnaikD*] SUItstba, AbbI- 

CongrnmlloDBllaDi.abilllyar, 349; Se Rutnn, 18T 

■dapudoD tg lloioa tllHinni, DiTwion, SI. SM 

„_._-/ o>a . ^_i .^ ^ .J -ji..-.-. .J.I- 1- Rl m «w fat 



rsbcr, 19S 
Viltbulo, 103. 190, S 



Ongotr 'n.'Wa 

Oncltj, 101 

QiWH. lal-2, 311, 31B, 309, 383 

aiHDlnl; El 

Olwi*osd. 230. 

OrtdtoT, 280 

QiifflD, U, 33a 

arinsld, 140^ 

3&3,3ST 



BabbHd, 104, 261, S11, 813, 3S3 
334, M oblnuika, 412-18 

nubbaii, sa> 

Bnggtni, 3S» 

Hugo, 190 

UumptinT, EO-l, !S{i, 229, SIS 

Hqdh.GO 

Hunt, 108, 338, 38ft 

UnntlDcdaD, U-e, £0, 103, 3S0 



Funr,ile,<ll) 

>«<nll, 104, tm oMtiuciM, 312 
Fu, GO-1, m 383, 418 
Mlon,103 

rtit,iee 

Fbiid, 230, Sit 

Vosnm, IM, 18S 

PaMiMl«B,48 

■Md, SO-1, 103, 167, 188, M oUt- 

Dulw,2Zi-8 
RO^SSO 
nnDlo:2;e 

FUher. El, 101, 28T, 818, 418 
rhk, 60, 10(^-2, 31%^ 
Hich, 44, eo, 864, SB 

no, 61 

nt«mld,326 
Ikmtiih.iSO 

r^N 100, M oUtiurii*, SlS-lT, 



roUmr, 108, 180, 230, US-IS, 357 

Fowle,61 

tax, th, 280-1, 283, 294-6 

Timnoii, Sit, 3IS 

VnaeUiu, 248 



B, 39, 41, 43-4, 40-8, GS, 269, 



abUniriei, 313, pidlgm 31l 
ntljiy, 3112 
lUuailloD. 363 
mniDiand. 102, 398 
Hinbui^, ITS 
Rucuk, 266, 336 
Handel, lOO 

nuding, 100.199,330,313 
Hirowin, 113 
Buper.SlO 
Uirp^ndd, 294 
llinlQgton, 230 

uiirk, 61, 103, 181, isa 

HuilviD, 103, 36T 
nui, 42, i lis, IBft, 201 

nirruij Collrn, eut^ coatn 



«H-l,28i^ ' • > ' 
Urde, is, 46, 43, 61, 102, 329, 269, 



Ih, 366-7, induM or, J 
1,39.41-7,106.223,266, J 



BklhEinT, 266 



Iftieo, m, 



216, 233, 330-1, 408, 



lodUoi, did tba Pllntiu irmic 

ih., 130-36 
iDgilla. 412 

luDcaUllaD, iDtndBeUon i^ 381 
IiuulUtloDL liui at lOO, 280, 818, 

4 IS 
JukBD, 3ft, 61, 72, 100, 107, 133, 

Sll 

Jum, hi, 323,286 

r J>iTBidi.'\03,'223,23I 
■ - ion 80 

ii.,I01 

X, 18, 26 

P,2a 

J«n«, 04, 318, 339, 333, 366, U3 

Jobn,»a 

JsbnorQunt,2g4,3S; 

JohDS, 4T 

JiAnaoB^lDS, 160 196, 199, US, 



rT«t,i38 

rrrt. 103 

roUai. 09, 161, 2S8 
0*lbnJUi,388 



eUdminni, 331 
QUI, la, 107 
OUIspto, 120 
QSimmaM 100, 230, ffiO 



rta, 220,330, dlO 
Gooduiow, 61, 31B-I9 
Ooodcleb, 31K 38S 
floDdirlB.SSl 

Oould. 0, 911, 100, 216-1T, 800-10, 

4W-1IV419 
QanB, 391 



uw VjllS, 32 



Hrnn Vtll,, 33 
llgn&Fil.3»J 



Jud«ii,43,4e-T,a6^3e7 

JaatJnlu.lOT 

Knp, 47, GO 

Kallin, 62,366 

Kandill, lOO-I, KKkk, Eendilgk, 

19,89 
KlnUlI, 61. 108 
Kln(. 331, 248. 313,819 



Holbr^K.feS 

UoUud, 133 

nolmo, iIODMa, 61, 100, 833, 410 

Holt, 39, 47 

Iloliokf, 100 

llooktr, 47. 61, <«, 149, 304, 866 

UopklDi. 68. 113-14, 117, ^ 

Koppln, 1U3, 313 

IIouhkln.lEl-.'HiG? 

l[D«j, 310-17, W9 

Ho., Howe, 228. 231, 311 

llonid, 319, 37B 




UwndM., 105, 19 
UuDcd, 100. 103. 
L»iiU, 223, 316, aai, iiD 
Id Eu. 279-0, 2^7, 2)6 
Lichfcnl, 133, 100 
■a, 39. 4&, 60-1, 101, 201, i 



424 



index. 



Iindm7^32e 

Ungard, 280, 282, 285 

Litchfield, 41 

Uetle, 318 

LiTingston, 230 

Lloyd, 74 

Loftufl, 2 

Lombard, 70, 279 

Loogley, 2!^ 

Lougnuui, 281 

Loornfu. 813, 311^20 

Lord, 101-2, 316. 363 

Lorlog. 230 

Lore. 101 

Ludlow. 143, 268, 818 

Lnm, 101 

Lather, 24, 76, 110, 271 

Lyman, 40,45-6, 46, 60 

lO^nde, 411 

M'Arthnr, 419 

McCabe, 208 

MeCallum. 318 

MoCloxe, 146, 203 

MeOoUom, 818 

MeDonald, 102 

McKweo, 61 

McGinley, 319 

McKeen, 313 

McLaoghlin, 230, 419 

McLean, 419 

McLeod, 230, 419 

Btlacauley, 142 

Mackey, 388 

Blacock, 74 

Magoon, Magoan, 319, 373, 417 

Malcolm. 199 

Maltby, 61, 157, 230, 819, 388 

Maoderille, 389 

Mann, 61, sec obitiiarief,220,231, 
397,405 

Manning, 1, 319 

Mansel, 309 

March, 319 

Marlin, 229 

MarmoDtel, 107 

MaTRh, 230, 319-20, Bee obitttaries, 
416-19 

Marshall, 389 

Martin, 23, 268-9 

Martyr, 76 

Mason, 89, 310, 337, 353 

Masj««hu8ettf> General Aflsociation, 
sketch of, 38-53 

Massachusetts, statisUoa of Cong re- 
gationalists in, 320 

Massasoit. 132 

Masson, 217, 410 

Mather, 7, 13, 14, 49, 69, 70, 103, 
137, 143, 160, 172 ; Cotton, bto- 
graphical sketch of, 233-264} 
tlieology of, 239 ; usefulnefts, 244 ; 
literary character, 246, 276, 334, 
893 

Matheson, 3Iathewson, 180, 357 

Matthew of Westminster, 280 

Maxy, 309 

Mead, Meade, 47, 50, 102-3, 186, 
314 

Bleadows. 10 

Means, 51, 145, 319 

Meech, 353, .355 

Meeting-houws, historically and 
suggt'Stlrely, 186-214 ; early, 186; 
plans of, 191, 213-14, 301-3; views 
of, 187, 189, 192-3. 198, 205, 207, 
212, ;^ ; kind suitable for Con- 
gregational ists. 206-14 ; ventila- 
tion of, 211, 300,369 
Mellidge, 3;J2 
Mendicant orders, corruption of, 

279 
Merrlam, 314 
Merrick. 100-1, 
Merrill, 101-2, 319, 355, 419 
Mos.oiiiger, 2^)5, 267 
Methodists, statistics of, 125, 299, 

387 ; misidouary etforts of, 380 



Mayer, 07 

Middlebary Ooll«g», gndoates of, 
noticed, 418 

MUler, 231 

Milb, 46, 113, 392, 412 

Mllner, 278, 294 

Miltoo, 195, 216-17, 278, 410 

Miner, Minor, 230, 267 

Miniitten. Am. Cong, in 1858, num- 
ber of. 88 ; marriagea of, 103, 281, 
819, 419 ; dismissals of, 100, 230, 
818, 419 ; ordinations and InataN 
lations of, 100, 280, 318, 419; 
deaths of, 108. 231, 320, 419 

Ministers, the old way of support- 
ing, 158; their civil and eocle- 
riastical relation Co churches and 
■oeletiefl, 165 «t seq. 

Missions, A. B. C. F., origin ofr 
46,339 

Missionary statistics, 285 

Monroe, 223 

Montague, 229 

Montelth, 102 

Montgomery, 389 

Moore, Mora, 45, 199, 285-6, 819, 
326 

Morgan, 389 

Morgridge, 101 

Morong. 230 

Morrill, 419 

Morris, 229-30 

Morse, 49, 60, 114-17, 186 

Mortara, 104 , 

Morton, 29. 54, 186, 275 

Mortuary SUtistics, 357 

Mordock, 20, 60 

Murphy. 319 

Nash, 133, 316, 412 

Naaon, 100-2 

Neal, 271-2 

Neander, 19,95,125, 132 

Necwlogy, Congregational, 96,218, 
312, 412 

NeiU. 61 

Nelson, 60-1, 199, 355 

Nenner, 392 

Netter, 281 

Newberry, 147, 149 

Newoomen, 241, 394 

Newell, 46, 231, see obituaries, 314- 
15 

Newman, 101 

New Jersey College, graduates of, 
noticed, 44 

New York, General Association of, 
organiaed. 157; Congregational- 
ism in Western, 160-8 

Newth, 391-2 

Newton, 149, 311 

Nichols, 102, 229, 310, 410 

Nickerson, 191 

Niles, 154, 266 

Noddle, 143 

Norris, iSHi 

Norton, 230, 318, 393, Orthodox 
Evangelist of, 73 

Norwich, Ct., plans of Church in, 

Nott, 46, 51 

Noycfi, lol, 231, 265, 393 

Oakes, 252 

Oberlin, 135 

Obituaries ; see Table of Contents. 

Ogden, 3S9 

Oldham, 144 

Oldmixou, 247 

Olds, 101 

Ollphant. 51 

Oliver. ri9, 157 

01i;haus4>n, 19, C!) 

Ordinationfl and Installations, lists 

of. IWy 2:30, 318, 419 
Origen, 2ii 

Orthodox Evangvlist, plan of, 73 
Osgood, 50-1, 112, 363 
Ossian, 107 



Otif,2Sl,8Ift 

Ousamequin, 13? 

Packard, 50, 102, 419 

Packenbam, 199 

Page, 100 

Pdne,51,819,351,399: \ 

Paley,404 ' 

Palfrey, 131 

Palmer, 90-1, 94, 223, 318-10, 38S 

Paris, 280 

Pariah, 02 

Park, ao, 88, 00, 70, W, 103,309, 

811 S19 
Parkw, 101, 228, 280, 318, 39i 
Parsons, 43, 231 
Partridge, lea 
PaM»l,m 
Putnr and People, their eivil aad 

ecclesiastical relation, ](S5-178 
Pastoral relation, defined, 1G6 ; hem 

formed, 168 ; tenure of, 168 ; itov 

dissolved, 170; Pastoxt, diftai»* 

•al8of,100,23a,818,41» 
PattoD, 826 
PkTely, 281 
Payson, 884 
Peabody, 41, 266, 268 
Peaeh, 138 

Pearson, 47, 104, 116, 257 
Pease, 102, 270 
Peck, 102, 858 

Peckham, 51 ; niit of! 16B : SIV 
Peet, 103 
Pelagins, 121 
Peloubet, 319 
Percy, 284 
Perkins, 89, 51, 123, 278, 275, 819, 

354,415 
Perley, 47 
Perrin, 101, 319 
Perry, 47, 101 

Peters, 51, 363 (419 

Phelps, 60-1, 89, iai-8, 152, 230, 
Philip, 131 
Phillips, 114-15, 159,261 ; William, 

sketch of, 333-dlO ; 410 
Pickard, 389 
Pickering, 107, I9t 175 
Pierpont, suit oil 174, 176-7 
IMke, 231 
Pilgrims, did they wrong the I^ 

dians, 129 
Pindar, 157 
Pitkin, 160 
Pitt, 30 
Plimpton, 103 
Pliny, 196 
Piatt, 353, 356, 389 
Plumb, Kr2-3, 269 
Polycarp, 26 

Pomeroy, 50, 150, 314, 419 
Pond, 60, 62, 280, 265, 267 
Ponaonby, 199 
Poole, 130 
Pope, 45 
Porter, 50-1, 102, 118, 188, 'i-^f, 

319,356,3il3 "^ "^ » ' 

Portraits, opposite title, 1(>3, 233, 
333 --I » F 

Post, 60, 326, 389 

Potwin, aSl 

Powell, 154 

Powers, 326 

Pratt, 100-1, 319, 398 

Prentice, 224 

Presbyterian, Theol. Scminariea in 
the U. S., 185 

Prenbyterians ; in Western New 
York, 161 ; co-operation in A. H. 
M. Society, 359-368 ; union with 
Oougrcgatiobalists, 363 ; statis- 
tics of, 127, 3S8 ; missionary ef- 
forts of, 389 

Preston, %2 

Prince, Thomas, .«iketch of, 1-16 ; 
70, 107, US, 231, 23.1-5, 'i40,aB , 
:j96 



Lidex. 



426 



PrineetOD. why m ntiiMd, 18 

Pnlsifer, 104 

Ponohard, C9, 278 

PundenoD, GO 

Paritan Hymn uid Tone Bode, 

810 
Puritaa Sftbtwth, 271 
Patnam, 41. 101, 229, 319, 861 
Pynehon, 74 
Qiuuttriy, Congregational, plan of, 

212 ; arrangMDonts with Codjetb- 

gatkmal Libracy Auodadoo, 318; 

with Am Conic. Union, 822 
Qalnoy, 8, 261, 266-7, 263, 811. 886 

Quint, Htlo, 61-2. 77, 124, 186, 166, 

180, 228, 281, 2^8,296, 822,832, 

886 
Baodall, 149 
Raiikin,101 
Ranaom, 891 
Ray, 101, 418 

Read, Reed, 101, 181, 267. 819, 826 
ReUgtODS Id the world, 872 
Reynolds, 41, 61 
Rice, GO, 101. 319, 8»9, 419 
Riehard II.. 284, 813, 818 
Richards, 221, 281, 268, see obltna- 

riee,816 
Riehaidson, 100-1, 107, 866 
Richmond, see obituaries, 816; 

sketch of the life of GUbert, 897- 

407 
Riddel, 44 
Ripley, 104 
Ritchey, 229 
RobUns, 4, 7-12, 1£, 61, 102, 111, 

217, see obituaries, 226, 287, 247, 

260, 262, 260, 419 
Roberts, 103, 890 
Robinson, 64, 68, 168, 180) 278, 276, 

816, 326, 879, 418 
Roby,891 
Rochester, 29 
RockiPeU, 61, 419 
Rockwood, 101, 104, 280 
Rogers, 61, 100, 319, 391 
Roman Catholics, statistics of, 298 
Root. 101 
Roraiter, 143 
Rowland, 811 
Rnggles, 418 

Ruskln, 874-6, 878-881, 384 
Rn«seU, 99, 107, 186-7, 230, 861 
Sabbath, Puritan, 271, 277 
SabelUus, 121 
SalTord, 102 

Segunore John, 182, 184 
Sagamore James, 184 
Bdiaricfl of cariy ministers, 160 
Salter, 229, 819 
Saltonstall, 182, 169, 834 
Sampson, 410 
Saubom, 812 
Sandford, 880 
Sanndem, 141 
Barsge, 104, 186 
Sawyer, sketch of the Kot. John, 

D.D., 62-66 : 94-6, 104, 230, 419 
Sehaff, 19, 197 
SchDelder, 108 
Soott, 199. 410 
Seabury, 102 

Seagrave, see obltaaries, 218 
Scars, 311 
Seocomb, 229 
Seeley, 61, 100 
S«isk>os,61,100 
Serers, 11 
Sewall, 11-18, 60. 64, lOft-3, 256, 

260,312.818-19,396 
Seymour, 818, 862 
Shaw, 194 
Shay, 838 
Shedd, 810 
Sheldon, m,06, suit of, 1U9, 173, 

176 III 



Shepard, Shepherd, 60-1,60, 62, 
1037230, 826, 882, 897, 418-19 

Shiriey, 278-282 

8huirleir,226 

Simpkins, 41 

SkeltOD, 159 

Skeele, 108 

Sloeum, 419 

Smalley, 51, 309, 316, 388 

Smith, 8, 60, 100, 102, 104, 161, 
229, 2W, 267, 811, 318-19, 826, 
892 419 

8neir,'47-62,108,224 

Snow, 266 

Soeinus, 121 

Somerby, 142 

Soule. 1») 

Southgate, 11 

Southworth, 133, 230 

Spalding, 44, 50 

Sparko, 237, 241, 268, 260-1, 263 

Spear, 818 

Spencer, 101, 199, 230, 898 

SpUman, 889 

Sprague, 39, 44, 47, 115 

Spring, 44-8, 66, 114-16, 118, 227, 
384 

Spurgeon, 382 

Sqneb, 144 

Stary, 398 

Stallburg, 113 

Standish, 138 

Stanton, 2. 11 

Stapfer, 118 

Statistics, American Congregation- 
al, 77-89; Baptists, fiW^ 885; 
BaptUt. Free Will, 127 ; Congre- 

Stionaiists in Massaehuaects, 
[) ; Congregatlonallsts in Tsri- 
ous States, 411 ; Dutch Reform- 
ed, 125. 385: BplMopal, Protes- 
tant, 127 ; General, 296 ; Metho- 
dist, 12S, 299, 887 ; Mlsslooary, 
389 ; Presbyterian, 127, 388 ; Re- 
ligions of the world, 372 : Roman 
Catholic, 296; Swedenoorgian, 
299 ; Unitarian, 297 ; UniTersa- 
list, 297 

Statistics, Mortuary, of graduates 
of AndoTer Theological Semina- 
ry, 367 

Statidtics, defects in our, 139-141 ; 
suggestions regarding, 320 ; what 
desirable, and how to be collect- 
ed, 135-141 

Stearns, 46, 60, 101, 108: suit of, 
175-6; see obituaries, 221-8, 311, 
364 

StennlngA, 133 

Sterratt, 889 

Stewart, 107 

8Uer, 112 

Stoddard, 95, 123. 143 

Stone, 51, 101-2, (»1. 311, 826, 393 

Storm, 50-1, 101, 231, 268-9, 319, 
826 

Story, 376, 889 

Stoughton, 256, 260 

Stowe, 51, 269, 377 

Stowell, 102 

Strvet,389 

Strieby, 419 

Strong, 230, 316, 337-8, 354 

Strype, 272 

Stuart, Stewart, 107, 217 

Sturterant, 60, 231 326, 414 

SuUiTan, 152 

Sulpicius, 23 

Suiuoer, 42, 143 

Swain, 228, 311) 

Swan, 102 

Swedenborgian Statistics, 290 

Sweetser, 51, 102, 228, 319 

Swift, lUl. 101. 

Syken, 818 

Taggart, TjO 

Taliman, 10:3 



Tappan, 102, 110, 882 

Tatton, 419 

Taylor, 61, see obituaries, 96-7, 

108, 218, 281, 265, 811, 838, 888, 

409,419 
Tennent, 16, 266 
Tenney, 102-3, 366 
Terry, 231, 319, 857 
Tertulliao, 19, 23, 121 
Testament. Alvord's Greek, 310 
Thacher, 186, 281, 826 
Thaxter, 819 
Tha>er, 103 
Theodoret, 28 
Theological Seminaries, CongU In 

in U. S., 181-5 ; in England, 889- 

392 ; Presbyterians in the U. S., 

186 
Tboophylact, 18 
Theiemin, SlO 

Thomas and Rlinbeth, (ship,) 8 
Thome, 102 
Thompson, 05, 108, 107, suit of, 

160, 178-4 ; 198-9, 235, .119. .124, 

326-7, 855, 389, see obUuariea, 

415, 418-19 
Thnroton, 810 
Thurston, 102, 220, 230 
Thwing, 112 
Ticknor, 13 
Tillotson, 360. 362 
TUton, 89, 217, 311 
TIndal, 21 

Todd, 51, 101, 819, 327 
Todhunter, 891 
Tompkins. 326 
Torrey, 230, 818 
Towie, 370 
Towns, 61, 60 
Townsend, 391 
Tracy, 69, 217 
Trask, 412 
Treadwell, 46 
Treat, 160 

Tripp, see obituaries, 226 
TrumbuU, 89, 143, 148-9, 267 
Tucker, 61 
Tuckney,241, 394 
Tufts, see obituaries, 418 
Tupper, 319 
Turner, 46, 50, 819, 822 
Twining, 192 
Twltchell, 190, 819 
Tyler, 108, 188, 218, 819 
Tyng, 94 
Tyte,89 

Uhden*s N. E. Theocracy, 96, 183 
Underwood, 103 
UniUrian statistics. 297 
Unitarianism, its rise in New Xng- 

land, 264 
Unlrersalist statistics, 297 
University of Vermont, graduates 

of, noticed, 416 
Upham, 103, 818 
Upson, 316 
Urban Y., 281 
Usher, 286 
Vail, 60-1 
Vattel, 132 

Vaughan, 278-80, 283-6, 289-91 
VenuUUon, 211, 300-8, 369-372 
Vormllye, 101 
Vicars, 217 
Vltringa, 118 
Vose, 353 

Waddington, 824, 327 
Wadifworth, 353 
Waite, 101, 103 
Waldo, 311 
Wales, 39 
Walker 50, 101-2, 188, 228, 231, 

818, 319, 326 
Wallace, 180.230,318 
Walley, 40, ;i37 
Walworth, 354 
Wannapoke, 132 



426 



^KvPV^^Mtt^ 



Wud, 41, 61, IML 419 

Wardwell, 104, 389 

Wftrdawovth* 18 

Warluuat 148-4, 148-9 

Warner, 98, 229. 353, 866 

Warren, 220. 890 

Wuhbnro, 818. 826-7 

WMhington, 47 

Waterman , 100-1, 886, 405 

WatMQ. 891 

Watt«, 15 

Wayland, 811, 406 

Webb, 419 

Webber, 108 

Webiiter, 104, ■MObitaftrlM, 219-20, 

280,410 
Weed, 225 
Weeks, 809 
Weld, 851 
Wellington, 199 
Wellman, 80 
Welbi, 48-4, 47, 108, 145, lee obita- 

arlee, 224-5, 818, 857 
Welton, 227 
Wentworth, 216 
Wesley, 88, 381 
West, 41, 44, 50, 826 
Whatelj, 67 
Wheeler, 318, 820. 414 
Wheelock, ^ 363-5 
Wheelwright, 818 
Whlpple,280 
Whision, 248 
Whitaker, 278 
White, 46, see obitoarlaii, 98-9. 101.' 

108-4, 144, 225, 280, 268, 319 



Whit«fleUL 18, 16, 16, 6S, 104 

Whitgift,272 

Whiting, 51, 100, 100 

Whitney, 42, 360-2. 367 

Whitmore, salt of, 177, 380 

Whiton, 358-4 

Whittlesey, 228-8, 863 

Wickes,826,8S2 

Wiekham,819 

\11ckliA,JohB, lUb and opinloiis, 

Wight, 100 

Wilbar, 62 

Wilcox, Willeox, 819 

Wilder, 100.281,419 

Wiikins, 285-6, WS 

Wilkinson, 8Ki 

Willard, 40, 42, 74, 102, 104, 261, 
895-« 

Willet, 101 

Witley, WilUa, 819, 412 

William I., 122 

WUUam and Mary, 254 

Williams. M, 108, 148, 216, 281, 
268, 318, dSO 

Williams Oollega, gvadnatei of, no- 
ticed, 46, 47. ^ 225, 268 

WUlls,2l9, 814 

Wlllifton, 60 

Wilson, 42, 184, 159, 187, 884, 860' 
2,864,388.419 

Windsor, 101, 280 

Winkle, 186 

Winslow, 100, 217 

Winthrop, 18, 129, 184,148,159^, 
186,834,800 



WlM, 80, 966, 800 

Wlw«rA 11, 12, 14, 16. 80, 74, 

839. d68 
Wlthlngton, 51, 290,8a 
Wodefbird,88S 
Woloott, Henrj and his ehlMiiw, 

141-150; 282, 8Ut 886k M eUl- 

iiariei«4ia-14 
Wood, 100-1, 108, 208, iTO, 818, 

826 
Woodbflf^ 41, 44, 46, 60^ 51, 119 
Woodbnrr, 51 
Woodrnll!.i00,108,280 
Woods, 45. 49, 60, 69, Laooard, 

sketch of his Ufe, 105-124 ; 820, 



Woolse7.894,826,419 
Worcester, 45-61, 294, asa obttna- 

arle8,415,419 
Woodsworth, 202 
Wren, 194, 207 
Wright, 40, 104, 419 
Wrutbenier, 188 
Wylie, 888, 889 

XaTier, 96 
Xenopbon, 118 

Tale Oollege, graduatai of, notlead, 
41-4, 47^266-8, 814-U, 418 

Yockney, 892 

Toang,144,228,411 

Yocmg Men's ChrisOan AMod*> 
tions, formed b j Cotton Matbar, 
346^ 



I mm I 



THE 

CONGREGATIONAL QUARTERLY: 

3 Bmomtnattonal Journal of jFacts, ^Principled anti ^rsumento: 

C0in)T7CTED, UNDER THE SANCTION OP THE 

CONGREGATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, 

AND THE 

AMERICAN CONGREGATIONAL UNION, 

BT 

Ret. JOSEPH S. CLARK, D.D., Rev. ALONZO H. QUINT, and 
Rev. henry M. DEXTER, Rev. ISAAC P. LANGWORTHY. 



This new candidate for public fayor was started in January last, without a single pledged 
subscriber, in the oonyiction that a felt need existed for just such a Journal as it was de- 
signed to be, and that the Public, and the Congregational denomination, especially, would 
sustain it. It was thought by its projectors, that a Quarterly which should confine itself 
strictly, though not bigotedly, to the literature, principles, history, statistics, necessities, 
aims and hopes of the denomination now representing our Pilgrim Fathers all orer this con- 
tinent, and which should so concentrate within its pages that which every intelligent Congre- 
gationalist desires and needs to know, might not merely find support, but might hope to do 
much good— in disseminating needed information ; in reviving the memory of the virtues of 
the fathers, and advocating again the principles to which they gave the vigor of their love 
and life ; in commending the simple Polity of the New Testament, and of the first and second 
centuries of the Christian Church, afresh to the minds of the thinking world ; in binding to- 
gether Congregationalists — East and West, North and South — by a warmer mutual interest, 
and a more cordial mutual confidence ; and in indirectly advancing ** whatsoever things are 
honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, 
whatsoever things are of good report." It was, moreover, felt that a Journal which should 
in some measure, take the place biographically and statistically left vacant by the suspension 
of the American Quarterly Register, (files of which now command the highest price in the 
book-market,) if suited to the popular taste, would meet with large acceptance. 

The Editors and Proprietors are now happy to assure the Christian public that although no 
' agency * has been employed, the response to their efforts has been such — in the practical form 
of cash subscriptions — as not only to save them from loss in the large expenditure incident to 
the first year of any such enterprise, but to make the continuance and improvement of the 
Quarterly, at the same low price, a thing of course. It is made clear that the Congregational 
churches and ministry desire and will sustain such a Journal. 

The CoNOBEOATioNAL QT7A&TERLT wiU, therefore, continue to be issued, as heretofore, at 

OITE DOIiIiAB A Y£AB, TJX ADVAKOE, 

and will be enlarged so as to make an annual volume of at least 4M pages, with fotar elegant 
steel portraits, wood-cuts of church elevations and plans, &c., &c., and other features as here- 
tofore. The January number (1860) will contain the statistics formerly published in the 
Year Book, in addition to its usual variety of other matter, 

\[J' Please remember that no name is entered on the subscription list unless accompanied with 
One Dollar in current funds, and thai no former subscription will be cotvtinued (and no num- 
hers be sent) for 1860, unless the dollar is first remitted. At this price, positively no credit can 
be given. 

(tjTBe careful to give your exact Post-Office address ; with your State and County, if West 
or South, 

DI/'Direot all communications to :— 

" The Cong&boational Quarteblt, Chaunot St., Boston, Mass.*' 

(See over,) 



Teatimamala. 



The CoNORKOATioNAL QuARTEBLT, (80 far Es itfl Froprieton are informed,) hu 
invariably receiyed with favor by the Press, and by private critics. From the veiy large 
ber of commendatory notices which have been forwarded to the office of piiblicatioii, the 
following are selected to enable its readers to judge of the impression it has made upon the 
public. 



A work wblrh should interest and rec«Iv« the sup- 
port of every lover of Congregatlonallnn. — Me. Evoh' 
gelist. 

This new-comer Into the Periodical Family appears 
with A fiir record, and well known sponsors. — U^ris- 
tian Mirror. 

The object of the work is a good one. . . . We 
think it will have a wide circulation, and do a good 
work. — Vermont Chronicle. 

1 r iA 1 « -y handsomely printed, and contains matter 
of iDtich inr*-7osc to New England Ministers. — Boston 

->■ " 'hi' thinfr that has long been needed. It is 
^i.. ' 'Hiual and broad Church Journal of the 

denomnw: , and ifrnores all schools and parties, 
and means couraseously and honestly to attain per- 
fect impartiality in its recordu and reaaoninga. 

All will, at k»#t, confess that it is a model of cheap- 
ness. One hundred and four pages with a steel 
engraving, four tim<>8 repeated,— /or one doVar per 
annttm^ Is a phenomenon unknown before. We hope 
it win always be known hereafter. — Congrefgation' 
alist. 

Abounding In Just the argument, statistics and In- 
fbrmatlod that go to form the riglit Ideal of such a 
donomlnational \nu(3.— (Baptist) Watchman and Be- 
flector. 

Tts d(>slgn is to promote the Interests of Congrega- 
tionalism, and judging from this number, we regard 
it as silmlrably adapted to th<s end. We wish that 
our own denoniiriatinn might be stimulated to a sim- 
ilar enterprl.te. — {Baptist) Chritiian Era. 

It is conducted by Ueva. J, S. Clark, D.D., H. M. 
PfXter, and A. II. Quint ; an udmirabte trio for the 
jiurpoiM?— Dr. Clark bi-ing thoroughly versed in the 
hlst<»ry and literature of ('ongrpgntlonalism, Mr. 
Dexter an able rxponndcr of Its principles and work- 
ing, and Mr Quint being the most thorough and 
philoK>phical statiftician that the denomination 
boasts. In historical and statistical matters this 
Quarterly will make good the place of Tht! American 
Qiiarlfrly Register, while as a p<'pular exponent of 
the great principles of the Congregational faith and 
or<Jnr, it will preserve alive much which, through 
long neglect, was beg nning to ipntlth.—lndtpcndint. 

Certainly without a parallel for chcapnej^s among 
the quarterlies of America. — R. I. Schoolmaster. 

We have long needed just such a publication for 
our enlargement, and Indeed, Felf-delenee. as a de- 
nomination, and thirt number mo«t worthily gives 
promise of what is to couio.—Rev. W. T. Dwight, 
J).D., Portland y Me. 

I like the plan and the work, thus far, very much. 
—Kev J. W. Chickcring, D.l)., Portland ^ Me. 

Please find enclosed, one dollar, my subscription 
to your vsilnahlo. excfllont, most Ueflrable (and \h It 
not too cheap ?) publication.— /{rr. N. Adams^ D.D.. 
Boston. 



I have examined the Chngrtgationmi 
and think it a woric of very great impurtaan 
Congregational eooneedoii and to the eoaui 
Rev. W. A. SteanUf D.D^ Fresident ^ 

College. 



It is my settled rule not to meddle at all 
lications of any sort, in the way of indneliif my pe^ 
pie to subscribe for them, preferring to let tiMmaal 
wholly for themselves. I have, however, baiB m 
desirous to have this QuarteHf/ talcen, aad beaa m 
much from it, that I liave made an cjweptfoa a ki 
fiivor. I send, herewith, a list of thineen 
Rev. Ray Pahner^ D.D., JAoMy, N. T, 

The objects propoeed, denominatioDaUy 
are appropriate and important t«4 
and to Congregatlo&aUsm, as an eoel 
tern, and in their promotion you will donbtlsM have 
the countenance of the entire denemiaatloDd— Jlsp. 
Edward W. Hooker, D.D., Fairhart^m, VU 

I am highly pleased with your 
yon the largest suecesa. — Rn, 
D.D.y BrooUffn, N. Y. 



ittoaaHm 



3 

J 
1 




r. L 



In enclosing my subscription for tba Cbufrsf*- 
tional Quarterly, I wish to express to yon my gni^ 
flration that such a work ia to be added to oar ] 
iral literature. I have always lamented the < 
of the old Qttarterly Register. I think that 
religions pniodkals, of heavier pietensions, eo«M 
have been more easily spared. I 



still to refer to the volumes of that Qnaitcriy for 
information which, so for as I know, Is Bccmlbli la 
DO other furm. I very eordially welcome the appear- 
ance of its successor. The historical and ataastleal 
accumulations in such a work must soon bec o me Ib- 
valuable to scholarly men, and especially to thesa 
who appreciate our Congregational polity— a polity 
which essentially grows out of the actual history of 
the churches, and has more than once been modlAtd 
by that history. Such a work, continued throaata a 
quarter of a century, may become a moie trotafoi 
exponent of Congregationalism as it is, than any 
more ancient and venerable " Platform.** — Rev. ili»- 
tin Phelps, D.D., Andovtr, Mm. 

I have read with much interest the first number of 
the Congregational Quarterly Journal, and 1 earnest- 
ly detdre that the periodical, so well oegnD. may ba 
liberally patroniEed. The American Quarterly Jiegb- 
ter, which was conducted by the late Pi of. B. B. 
£>iward^, i^ a work to which I of^en refer ; and I 
truHt that the •' Congregational Quarterly " will long 
continue to supply the place of that excellent **llfr* 
gister."— £;c/iror</s A. Park, D.D.,Andot€r. 

I have no hesitation In saying that I am modi 
pleased with the numlters of tho Congrrgai tonal 
Qiinrttrly Uius Ihr. The industry and thoroiighncsa 
manifested in it, in the collection of statistica, the 
ability of its articles, and its general spirit, would 
lead me to wish for it, as they can hardly fail to se- 
cure^ a very wide circulation.— A/arib Hopkins^ D.D.. 
President of Willinrns CoU*ge. 



YoL I, ( ONE DOLUW A VEftB. IN ADVANCE. ! JJo, J. ; 

TUB 

Congrtijiitional (ijuarkrl]). 



*TUl 




ft*Ti. .r. a. OLAiuc. u u. a. m. dbxteh m a, h quikt. 



B O 3 TO y ; 
POBUSnBD AT TH& COKOKEd U3UXAL BTnLDDTfi, 




CONTENTS, 

'VnaXAt Pmsck. Br Hat. 4. M. Unininy, Soflon 

Oun-np-T^Tjasttwi*- its Fcayvhu ajtb SKF«iiHjnTl» Bl-R 

T I .< Asfocurin.f. I' 

:.. «.-». J, s. ciUtk, 1 

li I r.*I. Vsniif. Br ii 

IIm-:;,-.-, \U . .. .._ 

FATnint Si<n-Kn: A ltto«iRAnncAi. SsKTcn. R^ iUv. ELPonA, D.d 

Utni^nr, Slui , — ^ 

Tilt. <>,,,<. »i tJKA<><-.. lU lt.-<- 1], M.nutvr.BmtOp.- 

LUT." D)r Ibr. J. R (' 



7%. A. 

rtwii' ,■!■■■ 



Co>ui.CMAnu-v.'.i. Mim;ji,w .Mamiild. uuainu ItiM 

CosiiHVUA-nilKAL MUUTKKI UiccKaaBb, tUdUMO lU* ■ 

QtiAliTcni-V UkKiutu tir ntK CijMUMiHAnuitAi. IjnnxnT AnNictQ 

»IO».. I ..,..1-... .... ,... 

[>l(pLrul-LI. •,■1, ,11 J ■..J.UloliMU (it -Ll l.M'K.t.i,dl:i...]/ r.1, .. 



t(t(«, 1* aju ID pirptnllott tti Hut oi 



T*l. MBSOMf M Ad (f CwfiMf, Ib (U TMt l«t V 

••(lilt Mnlrt ONft <f Ike DMHrt •; MdMCttK 



1 



r 



THE NEW ENGLAND 

Pnliial fife |iisinrii«ct CiioitijiiiiiB. 

OSloe, comer of Stnte and ConnreBa Sta., BOSTOIT, 

In iho Cbmpavff'a Buihiuig, 

INSURES LIVES on the MUTUAL PIUNCIPLE. Net 

ai,3ee,ooo. 

And incTMsmg, For tbn ))ftnf>fil or Members, preaent and fu- 
ture TIiu wlirtte saftly ami aJvantngenutily iovcsluil Tbo 
bnfiue^s cuadautod CKclusivoly for tlio bunofit of the persons 
insured. The greiiteet riak taken on ii lifu, 51o/J0O. Sur- 
pliut dUtribnted among tbo members every liftb year, freiu 
Dec. I, 1S43 ; settled by ruh-h, iir l»y addition In policy. 
Tlie dirtributioQ of December, 1863, niuDunled to tbirty per 
cent ortbe premtnm piUd iu tbo Inst five ye^ini. Premintns 
may be paid quarterly ut semi^aouuUy, wbco desirad, and 
Kumoanis out too mmll- 

I borms of Applicatiou, and Puiupbleta or Iba CotDpnuy, 
' luid its Reportti, to bu hiid of ite Aj^ont^, or nt the Ollioe of 
Hxc Company, or Ibrwardeil by roiiil, if wriMeu lor. 

Wnj^RIi PHILLIPS. PrrriiicM, 
.MARSn.ALL P. WILKEIt, 
CUAULCS P. CFllTLS, 
THOMAS A. Di^XTKIl, 
A. W. TIIAXTER, JR., 
OEOnOK II. FOLGKR, 
VnLLl^VJM B, RE^-NOLPS, 
CHARLES nt'RRAUD. 
SEWELL TAPP^VN. 
PATRICK T. JACKSON. 




JOIOI ilOJlANS, MJ)., CaimiUmg Phyaidatt. 

BENJAMIN F. STEVENS, Sceretarff. 



COKdREGATTONAL QrAKTERLT : 

3 D»iuuisiiti9ittl Snatnul tf /aria, :}<rilittiil» niiJIl Sr^lj 

nOXCfUfiOAl'lDKAl' MnUAItr AMNnCIATIOX 

jitt. lOftrro *. 



^bH8 DOIiliAIt A TEAB, IW ADVAKQK 



ToL L loy POLLAR * VEAn. iw advance-. ff^ j^ 



TUK 



(Hidngregatianal ^uartfrlg. 



.AJ»RIL, 1S69- 




Hit*, J. 8. CLARK. D.D.. IL M DBX7EK, A. H. QUI&T, 
**» :, P. LiNOWORTHY. 



BOSTON: 

OOMnaBOATtOKAL Btni.IltXO, CKAHNCV KTBEET. 

Jf K W V O n K 

BOUUS OP AUniUCAX IXlMnREOATICOTAl. DKlON, 
III VKOD DH'A V 



CONTENTS. 

AttKUn)A^ E<;<n.UiAmCAL lljUfOMfflAriOlH, bgr XUt. A IH Quinl. 

Januura Hsln ..... . - - ■ . t 

Dii- Tim. riuiiim* WnoKO tub Tmdiavp'' B? Bo». J. S- Cto*. D Ji^ 

Biwiiii) 1 

Tnr K^MnciKHu or rni Citwank* ako i^ nutia Mrawiw. 

B*rv, A, tl. qa>tit.ir«Mlbt riaia. . 

HiciiiY Wau.-<UTt utn uw Cutijiuiw. Br Ifev. fiuMel Woleoti. Pmr-J 

lJ>nK*.ll.l -. , -T 

C(i>rnni"^'*r(<»«AM^^ i« Wt*rEim Kkw Vou. By But. •!■■»•• U^j 



!»I>_,iW-rnU .- - 



PVBUCAnoMJ (.Jf til 



itifroxicALLr AHb SRaojinirKtcl 



TU AW tW^.-t^4iu>nuJ //yum ihh/ 7Vn* /i»a. 

CoKttMWtTmiUH- I*»(ca(lli>llY. .- 

Liar or Statr rtminKoATrasAL Bud(kiii v>V* iUrh iigictrt,anJiimi 

ami fJan* nj nttiing far lit cvntnl ffit 

CO-llDULMArtillrAI. tjOAXTCnLY RKCOKf. 

AMKUiuAjt CaHUlsa'TJtWAL tTwiiiXi.. 



f,a.eLUia, ii. u 



A. B. UCUlt, I 



1 I. r uxowKTitr. 



CTTlu idT«aca pooub* ((Mi bj tki twdm) a» ikl* Owarttrtr tk q-afiMi pw » 



ptna or » !■ raujii, m ■ooool r. 



Vol I ( OH£ OOLL*H A yt A R. IH AOVANQgJ Jgf^ Q^ 



THE 



Congregational (ijuarttrl]). 



JTJ-LTSr, ISSS. 





C«iigcrjrali»nal Itbiiitv HdiocUllCJi. 

ttvtirtcan ^vngriJiJlianal Knlsn, 

SUn. J. 8. CLAUK. U.b.. U M- Dt'ATClt. A, U liUUiT. 
iWb I- K LANGWOItTQy- 



BOSTON: 

oomoakVational utui'nufca. bhauxoy htjiIsrt. 

MKW YOBKi 
B00II3 OP AMEtlinAN cusoKROATlOItAI. mtlOn, 

tl4 DKOASIrAt. 



CONTENIS. 



Camn Mathrr. Oj Birr. JL II. Quinr. JjhmJiui ri«>ii 

Coy«iiirsArif>wAi. Cm'ivnn Ayn Miti»TJUc* n Wtxuiuu Odf«i 

Ct. Uj Rf ». IL C. I^nitnl. Bedi.1. ft 

A UwMtx cuuw tiic Tai^: TjtK rt'itirjut RAHKAni. IT* OMan 

a:(d (MI.IIKXD*!. llTK«v^,J.i> Clark. J> LI. llMtoo 

■IbIL1> WifBLIH-K: A iUlriCU m MIK l.iFT. .isn Oiimus-. 

I'Undinn), UteUU. . -■ rr .- .- r - 

AmiiicAX Kixi.«K>iArnr-Ai. DKNamxAi^ 

IL (iui.,|. ,- .- 

SftKioii o» Tills n<inKpor«v CdUaai. N--. ■ 

TicCLAB ltr»i!iit:xci( n> VtcsTiUftiiX: li> Itcv. .tuttx I'. tliill(««ri| 
Kar-Wli. CU ...,,....,..„,... 



nnr<ifM-i*i fiiiM liramtt tif Atij/firAmrrmM Get- 1 

i//rann.il nf' tie AnilMier SrmitCtMeitmial Ctkiru.. a 

Z*f'» /;«dluftJuy5, 1 

Tie BUJi^kKca Sairm ,., ....t., .i 

dnxlaaJ'i Cuai/irmttivm iif dmtrumt Olmtiarr. , '» 

CoMoiir.iiAVia.vAL Xi»:uuLr)t)T » 

CmtaltKUAJUtXAL UC)AKieiU.Y I'.: i : 3 

OUU STATt STAtIBTII». -. .1 

EDi-rctniAL Notks. a 

I'ltnOMDIKOs ASti AsKDAL RcPliiiT •>' IMK AMPIIIirAX CoMlnfii.*- 

11UXAL U.fllMt S 

FRocsKni.soH Axn Axxrau Rbpuat at me ConfitmATiifKAL 
I.IBtiAiiv AaMtnl Alius . . - . . . . . 



J. •■ (XAKK, n K. KKXm, A B. QCtirT. •B* t. p. LAHIIWDItTinr. 
Is IIh CWk ^ CMBb* «r Un DUiflct cmoi <« Uh DWDM ct lluH«nM& 



ni lOenHpcrrw. 



I6632J^ 



'Tgi; X, lOWt DOLLAH A VEAB. IW AOVANOEI ^^ 4; 



TUE 



Congrfgationiil (ijiiartfrls. 



OCTOBER, , 186&. 




IUti, J. 8. OLAAK. D.D.. U :>1 DKXTRft, A. B. QUliTr. 
4a» L P. LANQWOnTHr. 



BOSTON: 

OOKanZQATIOXAl. aplLDINO. CBJlWCX 6TBBBT. 

STW T f I R K ; 

BDOMfi or AMBIiWaX COXOBtXJATIOSAl. I'HIOH. 



CONTENTS. 

PA4I. 

William Piiillii's. Bv Ilev. John L. Tavlor, Andover. M^ ^c:\ 

Adaptation ok CoNrrRKiJATidXALisM run ihe Work <»k IIomk Mi>- 

sioN>*. Htfv. Israil E. 1) win. II, Salem. >!.« iWl 

Ct»NGUKtfATI*»XAL ClirKC'IIKS AND MlNLSTKHJ* IX WiNDIIAM CoCXTY, 

('t. H«*v lii»b.'rt C Lfariit»«I. FitM'lin. Ct. : Coiitiiiu«*«l o.**'* 

MninrAHY Si A itntio nK run AxDOVKi: riiKoL«)(ncAL Sfminary. 
AxiioVKii, iM'KiXfi iiiK Fikst Fifty Vkaks. Kev. .1. S. Clark. 
D.I)., Ho.M<in :i.'>7 

TiiF Amkhh-ax IIomk Mi«4Si«»xary So<'iKTY. axi> thk Xi:\v School 

(Jkntral Assi-.mhly. Rev. J. S. C'Urk. 1 ).!)., Boston ;iO!« 

■ 

! Vkntilation f»F Chi'rchls. Rev. Lsaar V. Lan^worthv, C}iel>ea. Ms. :i*i'.» 

Till-: CiiKins OF nil-: World :;7'j 

.VRCHiiKrTruK Axi» CifRiviTAX PRixrii»LK. RfV. Gt'orjre F. Ma;r«»un. 

D.iviMiport. Iowa .17.: 

AmFRICAX DkNoMINATIONAI. STATIhTll'Si. CoRipiUMl \\\ Ri*v. A. II. 

(^•liiit. J iin:ii('a INaiii. Ms '^'^'^ 

CoNOHFJiATloNAl rilKuUii.lCAL SKMlXARJKij IN ExiiLAXI*. R«'V. 

IltMiiv M. lK'\t«r. BoMon 'M^M 

A Li.r-M»N Fi:«iM TiiK Pasi I ('ATEt'iiisiXG. Rfv. J. ,S. Clark, I).I».. 

r>«>si<»n '.'*\*,\ 

(\\\.V.V.\V\ Rll'lIMONI) vJ'jr 

IJjx.h'* or Inm;I:I>T lo CoXGRKfiAIToXALlSTS : 

//•//•' /<'>• Mnml f*hifosnjtfi1/^ 4">* 

7Vi //''/'•'.> //' /'' »/'/ // flu nhiiiH 4 ■:' 

• • • • ' 

(.'liid'.> f '.>/.'///•' f/«///o/<(i/ Cfiurches in M'lsxwhuseffs 4':' 

-I'/'/z/is' finttf ( 'oncrrn 4*''.* 

Mfi>so}i\< l.irifUh yort lists ! !«• 

Antnrrni of tht. Hrrnkfnst Tnhli* i:«-- 

(Villi," A m.yfor// of Soi'loUy Ms 1 !»• 

Minui't's ot' rnri'ius ( it inrnl Assoviutions, *\r 411 

Co\(iki:«;a i ional XkcuoloCiY 41.' 

C«»\iji:li;ati(»nal QrAUTF.nLY Rkcord 4i'.' 

AmKKHAN CoN«Ji:r<J.VTIONAL CnIoX 4*J'.' 

CoN<iRKOA IIONAL LlltRAKY A>.«*OCIATION .;.?•• 

Kl»lToi:iAL NoTK 42-» 



Knt«frt;>L arcor.liiij; to .\ct of l'oIl>;^»•^^, in the year LST-O. by 

.1 .«. I'LAKK, II M. I»KXTE?l. A. H. QllXT. and 1. V. I.ANOWOUTliV. 

In tilt* iMcrk'K OfHci' of tli«* District Court «^f the Dinrict of MaeKicbn>«etUi. 

1 .~*Thc advaiue pustnijo ipiiiil hy the receiver) on this Quarterly is 2^ ceiit.s prr iiuia: tr. 

or M) I'ciilb per year. 



IMIKSS OK K. L. HALCTI. 34 .SCHOOL ST.